


The Era of the Wingless Angel

by americanphancakes



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, But it's smut for the sake of characterization, DnP marry other people part way through the story, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Original Character Death(s), Past Sexual Abuse, Producer!Phil, Slow Burn, Smut, i'm just warning you now, singer!dan, there will be cheating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 144,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanphancakes/pseuds/americanphancakes
Summary: The man, the myth, the legend! Singer-Songwriter Dan Howell is celebrating the 10th anniversary of his debut with a tell-all interview. How did his father’s departure from his life affect his songwriting? Why did his marriage to his background dancer fail? And are he and producer Phil Lester romantically involved? Tune in to find out.





	1. Prologue/Interview: Scars

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to do a singer!Dan AU for ages. Dan's life & career is based primarily on those of Japanese singers Sheena Ringo and Ayumi Hamasaki. Dan still has his IRL (apparent) personality and general level of musical skill.
> 
> This is first & foremost a love story about singer!Dan and his producer, Phil. Their love takes a very, VERY long time to happen and even when the feelings are clearly mutual to us, they take romantic detours along the way and end up in failed marriages with other people. If that really bothers you, don't start reading this fic (it'll be REALLY long so I feel the need to warn you now. I'd feel bad if you signed up for this & got invested and then got kicked in the face with other pairings).
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Anyone looking at it from the outside would have known something was wrong, but Daniel Howell was only 3 years old. He didn’t have the life experience necessary to know what was going on.

His grandma, Alice, had stroked his hair until he fell asleep, which was reasonably normal. But she also let him listen to this old storybook cassette tape that he loved. It was something his mum, Marina, had listened to as a child. It was dug out of storage when she and Alice were looking for things for the then-upcoming baby. Daniel only got to listen to it when he was extra good. He must have been extra good today.

The tape player was silent when Daniel was awakened by the sound of a car door slamming and his parents talking angrily outside. They weren’t yelling, but Daniel thought they sounded a bit odd. He looked out his window to see his father, lit only by the streetlights, loading multiple suitcases into the trunk of the car. He pushed up his stubborn window as best he could, but only got it up a few centimeters. Enough to be heard.

“Where are you going, papa?”

“Your father is going on a business trip,” his mother said.

“Go back to sleep, Daniel,” his father said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Daniel said with a childhood innocence and naïveté that, years later, he would look back on with regret. “Have a good trip!”

Daniel closed his window and, not thinking on it any longer, went back to sleep.

When he woke up, a giant teddy bear was laying on his pillow next to him. A note on the ribbon around its neck said “your papa forever.”

His feet touched the cold floor of his bedroom and he walked down the hallway to the lounge and dining room.

Even at three, he knew his home didn’t look right.

Aside from the teddy bear hanging from his hand, every other sign that his father ever existed was gone.

 

***

 

“I’m not sure why he left,” Daniel - now better known as Dan - told the interviewer. Shane Dawson was a well-known TV presenter, whose tell-all interviews had earned him countless awards. When Dan decided to do this interview about his life and career, he knew he’d only want to talk to Shane.

“Did your mother never talk about it after?” Shane asked.

“No. Never. I’d mention it from time to time, but she’d clam up. Not say a thing. She’d get this dark, distant look in her eyes and I’d know to just back off.”

“Why do you think he left?”

“Honestly, now, I can say that… it was probably just irreconcilable differences. I don’t want to think either of them cheated, but perhaps. But when I was a kid, it was hard for me not to think that maybe it was because of my health.”

“And you’ve mentioned your angel scars in past interviews,” Shane said. “Can you tell us a little bit about that?”

“Yeah,” Dan says, taking a sip of his water. “I was born with a condition called esophageal atresia. My esophagus narrowed as it got closer to my stomach, basically. So like I couldn’t eat without choking. They caught it quickly the day I was born, luckily. I was spitting up far more than a baby typically should, choking a lot obviously. Um… correcting it took multiple surgeries, so there was one long incision near my right shoulder blade, and also a shorter one, slightly lower down near my left shoulder blade. So when I was really little, my dad and grandma would say it looked like I was an angel whose wings were removed.”

“And that condition even now causes you some issues, correct?”

“It does. My blood pressure is a total disaster. I’ve always had horrible balance issues because of it. Which is probably the only reason my career went the way it did, if I’m honest.”

“And we’ll certainly get to that,” Shane says with a smile. “But okay, after your dad left, your family life got much more difficult, yeah?”

“Yeah, my mum had to work more all of a sudden, taking on two jobs. Grandma came out of retirement. Later on, when I was in my early teens, she had to retire again for health reasons, so I started working. I didn't know how to do a freaking thing though, but like, everyone had said I was an adorable little kid growing up, so I did some modeling. Bank advertisements, you know, all those ‘save up for your child’s education’ type ads. I did some stock photography modeling as well.’

“And then you got that soda commercial when you were 14.”

“And the rest is history, isn’t it? Yeah, after that commercial I got a ton of offers. Found myself a talent agency. Wish I hadn’t gone with that particular company, of course.”

“So tell me about your time with Moonlight Talent. What happened while you were there?”

“Moonlight… I had heard rumors of how talent was treated under them -- sorry for that unintentionally, uh,  _ crass _ phrasing there -- but I was so desperate for representation. I mean I was getting so many calls, I couldn’t handle it myself. I panicked saying yes to them, and looking back that’s exactly how they operated, isn’t it? Taking advantage of panicked young people.”

“Yeah.”

“I got all those tv guest roles and even more commercials, too. I mean… Acting was my favorite thing. I loved it. I felt so fortunate to be getting the work, it felt like… like I needed to just deal with the abuse.”

“I bet the day they finally went out of business you were happy!”

“Oh, I was  _ this close _ to throwing a fucking party. Oh, sorry, this will get edited and you can…”

“We can bleep that out, yeah.”

Dan and Shane share a laugh for a moment.

“Anyway, there wasn’t only the uh, the sexual abuse either. They had a gift for really finding the thing you were most self-conscious about and making your anxiety about it so much worse. I was told I was fat more times than I can count. I developed an eating disorder, and… when your health is already a bit fragile, I mean… I consider myself fortunate that the fainting spells stopped me from ever losing so much weight that I was truly dangerously thin. It’s an odd thing to say, but, my fragile health probably saved my life. But at the very least, after fainting on set, I knew I had to leave Moonlight. I couldn’t keep it up.” Dan sighs. “I feel like I need a very hard drink thinking about that time!” He tries to keep his demeanor light, but Shane can tell it’s time to move on.

“Understandable,” he says. “Alright, so you left Moonlight and then what?”

“I moved back home. Left the training dorms and moved back home. Just showed up at my mum’s flat, suitcase in hand, and said ‘I couldn’t stay anymore.’ And I think she could see in my eyes that all the rumors had been true. She hugged me super tight but… I dunno, part of me was glad she didn’t ask what happened, because I didn’t want to talk about it. But part of me also worries that she knew what happened and didn’t want to acknowledge it. Mum, if you’re watching, I’m not mad anymore, but… yeah part of me was at the time. I wonder, if I’d talked about it to her, would Moonlight have been shut down sooner?”

Shane nods.

“The next year or two was hard on me. I wasn’t acting anymore obviously, and I sort of had this feeling of… like… not knowing where I belonged anymore. Like I knew what I wanted to do, I wanted to entertain people, but now the only route I could take wasn’t open to me anymore. Big ol’ ‘under construction’ sign stopping me from going forward. In fact, I mean… I’d moved back home. I’d effectively given up, because I didn’t know what to do. I went to a modeling school for a few months, but the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth and I just emailed them saying ‘I quit’ and never went back”

“Do you think maybe it was triggering bad memories of the abuse you suffered at moonlight?”

“Oh it absolutely was. So yeah after that I was just… hanging out with the two friends I had, neither of whom I was especially close to, they were just people I did things with. Play games, go shopping, whatever. But one of them really liked going to karaoke bars, was really into music. So we all went out for drinks one night, at this club that I absolutely hated. I hate clubs in general. But one of my friend’s friends owned a music store with his brother, and I thought that was really cool. We hit it off talking about that, and I learned that he had a record label that was really starting to take off.”

“And this was…”

Dan got a wistful look in his eyes, and smiled a bit. “Phil Lester, yes.”

  
  
  
  



	2. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan reluctantly goes out with a couple of friends and meets Phil Lester, head of a fledgling record label. Phil sees potential in Dan after he sings karaoke.

“I’m just not really into clubbing,” Dan said. His friend Callum merely tugged at his sleeve harder. Molly, Callum’s girlfriend, stayed out of the conflict aside from laughing at Dan.

“Come on, you great stick-in-the-mud,” Callum said. “I’ve got friends I want you to meet.”

“Yes, but y’see, friends count as  _ people, _ ” Dan whined. “Not sure if you were clear on that.”

“I’m quite clear on that. What you’re not clear on is that people are good.”

“No idea where the fuck you heard that, mate. I’m looking at a perfect example of that  _ not _ being true.”

Molly laughed. Dan couldn’t believe what a lightweight she was. He found her incessant giggling annoying, although that was no doubt in part because he was jealous she was old enough to drink cocktails and he wasn’t.

The city lights shone on the still puddles on the ground, making it look as though there were a starry night sky wrapping around them entirely. Normally, Dan rather liked the feeling of floating through space on nights like this, but tonight Callum was dead-set on forcing Dan to play extrovert. It made Dan’s feet feel like they were snugly dressed in lead boots. Not floaty at all.

Callum wasn’t letting go of his sleeve. He just kept tugging, and Dan just kept feeling forced to follow. So he sneered, but he gave up fighting it.

 

***

 

The club was fairly quiet, which wasn’t a massive shock as it was a Thursday night and not an especially popular club. Dan was actually enjoying himself a little bit. He found himself wishing he’d trusted in Callum, who kept throwing him this “I told you you’d have fun” face which Dan found insufferable.

“Phil, I’d like you to meet my friend Dan Howell,” Callum said, approaching Dan with one of his friends. “Dan, this is my friend Phil Lester. He likes music, same as you. Talk. Drink. Have fun, for fuck’s sake. I’m getting another gin & tonic.”

Callum patted both their backs once, hard, and took off toward the bar.

Dan sized up this Phil Lester Who Likes Music. He was wearing an ill-fitting navy blue suit, his tie loosened. The suit brought out his eyes which were just exactly the color of blue topaz; deeper and richer than aquamarine, like the sky just as it changes from dawn yellow to daylight blue. Phil’s eyes followed Callum away, however, and Dan was forced to return to his senses.

“As always, Callum is quite, uh…” Phil started.

“Annoying,” Dan finished.

Phil chuckled nervously. “Well, I was going to go with ‘colorful,’ but um.” He raised his eyebrows and tried to discreetly nod.

Dan snickered. 

“Dan… Howell, was it?” Phil asks.

“Dan Howell it was, yes.”

“So apparently we’re meant to chat about music?”

“Uh…yeah... ” Dan had always hated being put on the spot like this, but Phil wasn't saying anything else so he reluctantly took the reins. “Okay, I guess we’ll start with the basics then. Who’s your favorite band?”

“Muse. You?”

“Radiohead.”

“Ah, Muse for the sadder, more introverted set.”

“No, Muse is Radiohead for the more basic bubblegum set.”

Phil put a hand over his chest mockingly. “Ouch, that hurts!”

“Redeem yourself. Favorite Muse song.”

“Ah… from which album? And which day of the week is it?”

“You’re making it awfully hard for me to judge you…!” Dan said with a playfully impatient sing-song tone.

“Aah!” Phil mock-yelled. “Um, ‘Time is Running Out!’”

Dan shook his head. “That’s not really your favorite song, that’s just how you were feeling about answering me right then.”

Phil, quite taken with this boy’s wit, released the tension the same way his body always does: by laughing in a pained sort of way. “Why not both?” he eventually said.

Dan laughed right back before continuing his interrogation. “So what do you do, Phil Lester?”

“I run a music store with my brother, but um… I’m trying to get a record label started.”

Dan raised his eyebrows. “Ah, that’s impressive.”

Phil shook his head. “Not really. We have two acts signed so far and we’re hemorrhaging money.”

Dan laughed. “Sorry to hear it.”

“What do you do?” Phil asked, subtly gesturing towards Dan’s non-alcoholic beverage. “Still studying, I’d imagine.”

Dan nervously toyed with the straw in his coke. “Ah… I’m sort of… still trying to find my place in the universe. I did do some acting, modeling, that shit, but… yeah, not sure where I’m going after this.”

Phil gave Dan a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you’ll find your calling.”

Next thing Dan knew, he was caught in a social whirlwind of everyone deciding they were going round the corner to a Karaoke Box. Dan wasn’t much a fan of singing karaoke, but if he had to, he preferred going to that type of karaoke bar; one with private rooms. For one thing, it made it easier to pretend he was finally visiting Japan like he’d always wanted. For another, he only had to deal with the judging eyes of friends who he knew wouldn’t really judge him.

Although tonight, he’d also have to contend with the judging eyes of the rather handsome Muse fan he’d been chatting with.

 

***

 

Dan had had three beers already, which Phil was kind enough to buy for him. Dan could see that Phil was young - maybe 21, slightly older perhaps - but he was an adult, so he could buy Dan drinks, and that was just fine with him.

Luckily, Dan’s blood alcohol content was high enough that when it was his turn to sing, he didn’t freak out. Radiohead was already on his mind, so he went with “Paranoid Android.”

Phil, for his part, was three drinks in as well and did not have the impulse control necessary to tear his eyes or ears away from Dan. It wasn’t that Dan was a spectacular singer -- far from it in fact, although this song lent itself well to Dan’s expressive vocal irregularities -- but rather that he was charismatic somehow. Dan was beautiful, no doubt, but there was more to it than that. Dan was a presence. When his eyes shut and he belted out the words to the song, he owned the room in a way that Phil found so utterly unexpected given Dan’s tendency to curl up into himself when talking at the club. Here, though, Dan was expressing himself. He was getting lost in the music and it was hypnotic to watch. Plus, it wasn’t as though his voice was unpleasant at all, he just hadn’t learned how to use it. That could be fixed, no problem. 

Dan had potential. He had  _ that thing, _ whatever  _ that thing _ is that makes record executives see dollar signs in their eyes.

 

***

 

“Have you ever given any thought to being a singer?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Dan said, rolling his eyes. Phil had taken him out to the main bar area outside the karaoke rooms themselves so they could talk without the loud, echoing MIDI music drowning them out.

“What?” Phil asked, naively having no idea how odd this all appeared.

“What ‘what’?” Dan asked incredulously. “You’re seriously here scouting me for your failing record label? If this was Callum’s idea, I swear to god…”

“It wasn’t! I swear. I had no intentions of scouting anyone tonight. This was just a chill night out with friends.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Dan still didn’t believe him, but at least he calmed down.

“Look, I just heard you sing in there, or… more importantly, I  _ watched _ you in there, and I think you really have something!”

Dan looked at Phil with a bemused expression. “You… watched me singing, and  _ that _ was the important part?”

“Well, yeah! I mean, sure, you do have a nice voice. You’re not a good singer, but you have a nice voice.”

“Oh fuck off,” Dan said with an eyeroll that made his sinuses ache it went so far back.

“Just listen to me, okay? Look, you’re tall, you definitely have a model’s body, yeah? You’re beautiful. You’re charismatic and engaging to watch. I mean, no matter how you slice it, you have, y’know, ‘star power’ or whatever you want to call it. And I think you could help my label out. I think you could be really good for us. We need someone like you.”

Dan laughed. “Were those supposed to be air quotes around ‘star power’?”

“Um. Yeah. You’re missing the point though!”

“You used your  _ whole hand _ to do those.”

“Look, I’m not especially well-coordinated, I know that already. Otherwise I’d be in the Olympics or something and not running a music store with my brother.”

“If you say so,” Dan snarked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Seriously. Will you sign with us?”

“I’m not interested in being a singer, Phil.”

Phil pouted a bit. He wasn’t trying to make a show of it, he looked genuinely dejected. Dan felt his heart melt the tiniest bit, but he still found the whole thing shady. This guy, this  _ kid _ in front of him, in a cheap suit, trying so hard to be a cool adult, was begging him to sign with his record label. If this label even existed, there was no way Phil could really give Dan any sort of real career. Dan would probably end up busting his ass doing bullshit promotional things that didn’t actually help market him at all, and he’d have to run back home to his mum yet again when this label inevitably went under. Not a chance he was trying this. 

It wasn’t as though he could have possibly been molded into any kind of pop star even under a legitimate record label.  _ “Star power” my ass, _ Dan thought.

“Well,” Phil sighed. “Just in case you ever change your mind, here’s my card.” Phil handed Dan a business card, the logo for Lester Music on one side and his full name, office phone number, and address on the other. “Oh, wait…” Phil said, taking the card back briefly. He took a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote another phone number on the back. “That’s my personal mobile. If you want to call and it’s after business hours… yeah.” He handed the card back to Dan, who looked at it, puzzled.

“Uh… yeah, thanks. I mean… I’ll probably never call, but, y’know. Who knows, I might suffer a severe head injury on the way home.”

Phil couldn’t help but smile, feeling slightly hopeful that maybe, just maybe, this beautiful creature would call him.

 

***

 

The next day, Phil was using Dan’s face to cure his hangover. Of course, that was not at all how hangover cures worked, but at least looking at Dan’s IMDB page helped.

He had a hunch that when Dan mentioned his past doing modeling and acting work, he was downplaying it a bit. He had no idea. There were fan pages already built by teenagers crushing on him based primarily on his guest roles on television, but full of excited squeals about “I saw Dan’s Maltesers commercial yesterday!” and other such trivialities that only matter to easily excitable fans. These online communities weren’t huge, by any means, but some of them still had active posters even though Dan hadn’t acted in some time.

A few people were wishing for him to return to the entertainment world, ranting and raving about how underappreciated, cute, and talented Dan was.

He looked up professional reviews of the TV episodes that featured Dan, and nearly every mention of him called him out as “charming” or “promising.”

And his most recent headshots had been taken fairly recently, from the look of things, almost as if he was hoping to still find work at some point. And yet, it appeared that about a year previous, he had simply… stopped working. The end of his list of credits was abrupt.

“What are you looking at?” Phil heard his brother ask from behind him.

“Oh, uh… A prospect, I hope.”

“I prospect for what, your pathetic love life? He’s out of your league, mate.”

“Not for my love life,” Phil said, shaking his head. “I heard him sing at karaoke last night. I want to sign him.”

Martyn Lester pretended to stifle a laugh. “You honestly think you can sign him? You can’t pay him what he deserves if he looks like that  _ and _ can carry a tune.”

“I don’t think anyone else has approached him,” Phil said. “I might have a chance.”

“Good luck. Honestly, we’ll be rich if we can sign him.”

Phil nods confidently. “He’s gonna put Lester Music on the map.” He hesitates for a moment of thought. “Or… at least… in the black.”

 

***

 

Dan paused in the middle of the pavement. A dark cloud was starting to creep through his mind. That sense of hopelessness that he kept having to chase away lately.

His shopping bags fell to the ground. He hadn’t even noticed his grip had loosened. He breathed. If he didn’t get his shit together and pick these bags back up right then, he knew someone would snatch them and run off with them. So he conjured up enough adrenaline to move, and picked the bags back up. He breathed again. He took a few steps forward until his legs were moving as though motorized. He didn’t think or stop moving until he walked in through the door of his mum’s flat, where he was still living.

_ Still. _

He breathed again, leaning against the door.

“Hi, Daniel!” his grandmother called from the dining room.

“Hey Nana,” Dan answered, feeling calmed by the smell of dinner cooking and the sound of his grandmother’s voice. “Is mum home yet?”

“Is the sun out?”

Dan smirked. “Yeah.”

“Well then she’s not going to be home yet.”

Alice was setting out plates and flatware. Three places.

“Why do you always set out a plate for mum when you know she won’t be home?” Dan asked.

“Just in case!” she replied. “What if she gets laid off and comes home early and there’s no place for her? She’d feel dismissed by her job and her family. She works too hard to feel like that.”

Dan smiled.

“So, have you called that Lester fellow yet?”

“No, Nana. I told you, it seemed weird to me.”

“Well, did he seem _ threatening _ ?”

Dan shrugged. “Not really.”

“Then what have you got to lose? The guy believed in you, apparently. You never know, this could be an interesting opportunity for you to pursue something new. Worst case scenario, the label fails and you’re right back where you started, but you have nothing to lose except time really. And you’re not eighteen yet - time is one thing you’ve got plenty of! ...Oh, can you pour some drinks, angel?”

“Sure, Nan.”

 

***

 

It had been a good week and a half since the karaoke bar.

The business card was sitting there on Dan’s desk in his bedroom, glaring at him.

Dan looked at it, made a face, and sighed, sitting back in his task chair.

He whirled around in the chair, looking around at his stupid little bedroom in this stupid little flat, wondering why he bothered getting up every stupid little morning.

“Fuck it,” he muttered.

He grabbed his phone, and dialed Phil’s personal number.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's curious about Dan's scars in this story, here's a photo of how they look. https://ameblo.jp/yubu107/image-11864442317-12956169609.html
> 
> The smaller scar shown here is over on the left side of Dan's back (for future narrative purposes), but this is how the scars look in real life.
> 
> The singer shown is Sheena Ringo, one of the inspirations for Dan's character in the story, who was born with the condition described in chapter 1. This is the back cover of her 2009 single "ariamaru tomi."


	3. Interview: Who Believed In Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane interrupts Dan's stort to ask why he called Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this "story-interview-story-interview" alternating pattern working? Comments welcome.

“Okay, before you continue,” Shane politely interrupted Dan, “I wanna clear up something.”

Dan nodded. “Right.”

“So, you told Phil you had no interest in being a singer, yes?”

“Yes. And that was absolutely true. I was  _ not _ interested in returning to the entertainment industry in any way after the experiences I had at Moonlight. I learned from modeling school that being even adjacent to that world would bring back memories I didn’t want to think about. So yeah, singing, performing in any way, was just… no. No thank you.”

“And yet you  _ did _ call him,” Shane said with a smirk.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Dan retorted, smiling. “Sadly, I have to burst your fantasy bubble there. I mean, he was handsome enough, sure. But there was no… like… I mean he was like… twelve! He was clearly a kid with dreams at best. I didn’t believe in him as the head of a record label. I certainly didn’t think of him as dateable.”

“And you didn’t have any music training either, did you?”

“At Moonlight I did have to learn how to play music at a very basic level. Not anything real though. Like… enough to basically be able to mime along to a pre-recorded track convincingly. Basic guitar chord fingering, proper posture and hand placement on a piano. Things like that. I’d had piano lessons when I was twelve, right? I didn’t keep at it for long because my teacher was an absolute nightmare, but I did learn piano. So when things at Moonlight got really bad, I’d just practice songs on this tiny Casio keyboard I had with me in my dorm. I couldn’t read music, but learning songs by ear gave me something to do. It took my mind off everything. Aside from that, though, I was mostly just good at listening to music, not making it. Like I knew I liked time changes and key changes, I knew what lyrics I liked, I knew what rhythms I liked. And I knew why, like I knew what effect those things had on me as a listener. But it never occurred to me I could, y’know. Do it myself. And I certainly didn’t think I had a voice anyone would want to hear sing!”

“I’m glad you mentioned being good at listening to music, as you say,” Shane said with a slight chuckle, “and I do want to ask you about your musical influences later on, definitely. But I’m really curious about… like, what was it about Phil Lester that made you think ‘okay, I’ll call him’?”

“It was a few things, actually. For one, that whole ‘he’s a kid’ thing actually worked in his favor. I mean… he wasn’t threatening to me, I guess. I thought, like, this guy, based on his demeanor and body language, like… he didn’t have the same vibe as all those other industry guys. He was awkward as hell. This wasn’t a guy who thought he could get away with treating me however the hell he wanted. He was going to at least attempt to be kind. He needed me more than I needed him, at least as far as he knew, so I was in a position of more power and agency than I had been in the past. Which was good, because, y’know, I had literally nothing to fall back on. Entertainment, y’know, being cute and charismatic for a living, that was all I knew. If I was ever going to be employed ever again, it was probably going to be like, this or… prostitution, I don’t know.

“The other big thing was that… Phil thought I could do this. Phil believed I was going to be valuable to this label of his. And that wasn’t something I was used to hearing.” Dan breathed a moment before continuing. “My whole life I’d been told I couldn’t do anything. And to be fair, I mean, it’s not a lie. I still have no job training really. I was never especially talented. I wasn’t a great student in school, I talked all the time and did everything I could to get out of classes. I enjoyed reading so learning wasn’t a problem, you know, I wasn’t an idiot. But I was useless as a student. And even after I’d left Moonlight, and tried to get a real job working retail, I completely cocked it up -- wait, can I say that?”

“I don’t think so, but that’s okay, we can bleep that out too!” Shane smiled, keeping Dan at ease.

“Okay. But yeah, I hit panic alarms by accident, I sold an axe to a child, I took a nap under a table in the middle of a shift, I was just…”

“Model employee, then?” Shane laughed.

“Oh, the greatest. So understandably, at 17 years old I’d had nothing but people telling me I was worthless for literally my entire life. But…. um. My grandma…” Dan swallowed, breathing in, trying to keep himself collected. “My grandma was the only person who ever really believed in me. The only person who told me that I could pass that maths test, that I could get that retail job if I interviewed for it, and that it was worth calling Phil.” Dan’s eyes were filling with tears, but not plentifully enough to fall. His voice was becoming scratchier as he spoke. “She didn’t even say anything like ‘if you can’t do it, then blah blah blah.’ Her  _ only _ concern was if the company went under.  _ Me _ failing just… didn’t enter into her mind. She never made me feel like I was anything less than capable of following my dreams, whatever they might be.” Dan paused for a second, his eyes cast vaguely downward, moving side to side but not looking anywhere. “I always felt bad because I didn’t really have any dreams. I felt like her belief in me was wasted.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

“Even now? Yeah, sometimes. But I think I did the right thing at the time, I felt like I owed it to my grandma to call Phil and pursue this. I really wanted her faith in me to not be misplaced, was all.”

“Do you ever regret calling Phil?”

Dan doesn’t answer for a very long time. He looks upward, hoping doing so will stop his tears from falling. He shakes his head, still looking up.

“I don’t regret calling. But sometimes I regret signing. If I knew then what I know now, I’m not sure… I’m not sure I would have. I don’t know, maybe I still would have, but… there are times where I’m not sure.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m glad I know him. Meeting him was… a legitimately transformative moment in my life. But being an artist signed under him, having him be my boss and having his company’s survival be so dependent on my success in the first few years… God, it makes me sound so arrogant to say that, but…”

“Your music and merchandise and concert tickets were, what, 40% of the entire company’s net income at the time?”

“Gross income, actually, but yes -- and it sounds like I’m underscoring how much money I was making or something, but alot of that didn't go to me, of course. Mostly, like... Lester Music having all its eggs in my f... freaking basket? That was just... responsibility I didn't want, if I'm honest."

“Do you regret leaving HKL, then?”

“Of course not. Chris and PJ have done very well without me in the group. The breakup was best for everyone. Not that they were thrilled at the time, but…”

“Can you tell us about signing with Lester Music and your time in HKL, then?”

“Sure.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol Dan, Chris, and PJ in a failed boy band together? Yep! Stay tuned for details lol


	4. Where's Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan needs a lawyer, has phone anxiety, and can't breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only been three days, why does it feel like this chapter took me AGES to write?

_ Boooooop. _

_ Boooooop. _

“Hello, you’ve reached Phil Lester. I’m not available right now but--”

Dan hung up the phone before being faced with the task of leaving a message. He was too awkward - whenever he had to leave a message he’d forget to leave either his name or his number. He’d ramble about why he was calling (sometimes making the same points two or three times) and then give the other person no way to get a hold of him, which meant he had to face his phone anxiety and try calling again later, which of course he never did.

 

***

 

Phil watched his phone ring, but an unfamiliar number was on the screen so he didn’t answer (as was his habit after work hours were over). After a few rings, he suddenly had a thought --  _ what if it’s that Dan guy!? _ With a gasp he threw his hand outward toward the phone and tried to answer, but by the time he could slide the button over it had already stopped ringing.

“Sshhh…..ipping and handling.”

Phil quickly called the number back.

After two rings, a voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi there. This is Phil Lester. I just got a call from this number?”

“Yes, um, this is Dan Howell. We met not long ago. You asked if I’d ever considered being a singer?”

Phil smiled excitedly, trying not to let his delight show in his voice. “Yes, of course!” He played it off like it was no big deal, like people called him all the time for these sorts of inquiries and he wasn’t absolutely desperate for someone with potential to sign as soon as possible.

“I’ve given it some consideration,” Dan thought. “I mean, I have… like… concerns about doing it, but I’d like to give it a shot. Um… You mentioned something about… my voice being alright but just… needing training? Would I need to look into that myself, or…?”

“No, and we can provide that for you,” Phil said confidently. It would involve calling in a favor, since the company was running far too skint to pay for it at that moment, but he hoped his friend would say yes.

“Okay then. Let’s get together at your office and… I guess get some paperwork signed or whatever? I don’t really know how this works, but...” Dan trailed off to a nervous chuckle.

“Awesome! Oh, wait -- do you have a lawyer?”

“No, should I?”

“Probably, to be honest. Here, I’ll e-mail you the contract, and before you come over here to sign it, read over it with a lawyer. If there’s anything about it that doesn’t work for you, your lawyer can get in touch with us. We’re not in the business of taking advantage of people. That was the whole point of this label, to  _ not _ do that.”

Dan had the thought that Lester Music was  _ definitely _ going to go under if it didn’t pressure its artists into signing unfair contracts. This was unbelievable. Too good to be true, perhaps, but he figured he’d throw caution to the wind. If he hadn’t felt safe with this Phil Lester guy already, he definitely did now.

 

***

 

“No,” Doug said, his arms folded. 

“Please, Doug?” Phil begged, standing with Doug the Vocal Trainer outside his flat. “He’s really something special, I promise I can pay you back with the money he makes us.”

“Yeah, and that’ll be when -- a year or two from now? And that’s only  _ if _ he’s as much of a star as you say he’s going to be.”

“He is. I promise he is. And it won’t be that long, I uh…” Phil scrambled for an idea of what in the world he could possibly do to make sure Doug got paid in a reasonable time frame. In a panic, he thought of the last act he’d signed. “I’m putting him in a group that’s already almost ready to debut!” he rattled off. Of course, Phil had  _ not _ planned on doing that initially. The duo he’d put together was fine without a third member. But he needed to get Dan trained. If that meant putting Dan in a group that already had a first single lined up and nearly ready to be recorded, then so be it - all three of them would be stars.

“When’s their first single as a trio meant to be released?”

“...October?” Phil said, ballparking it, and knowing he was giving himself a deadline.

“Okay, fine.” Doug said, relaxing his arms and getting out his phone so he could add Dan to his calendar. “I want a paycheck from you by January 1st, though. You’re lucky I like you.”

 

***

 

To: Daniel Howell [xxxxxxxxxxxxx@xxxxx.xxx]  
From: Philip M Lester, Lester Music [xxxxxx.x.xxxxxx@xxxxxxxxxxx.xxx]  
Subject: Vocal Training  
Sent: Thursday, May 21, 2009 14:34

 

Daniel,

Hey there!

As promised in our last phone conversation, your contract is attached as a PDF. Look over it, make sure you have a lawyer look over it with you. Let me know if it works for you. If it does we’ll schedule a day & time for you to come by and formally sign it.

I’ve already contacted your vocal trainer. His name is Doug, and he teaches out of his flat here in London. I’ve attached a map for you.

He has time blocked off for you - 3 times a week for the next 4 weeks, starting this coming Tuesday (May 26th). It’s not enough time to make you an expert, of course, but Doug tells me it’s enough to get you into some good habits. Here’s your schedule:

Tuesday: 5-6PM  
Thursday: 2-3 PM  
Saturday: 10-11 AM

Don’t worry about payment, we’re taking care of that. Just go to the lessons and e-mail me from time to time letting me know how they’re going.

I’m excited to see how you progress. Talk to you soon!

 

Phil Lester

 

***

 

At 5 PM, May 26th, Dan knocked on the door Phil indicated in his email. His heart was in his throat. He never did well with authority figures.

A young man opened the door, and Dan thought for sure this must have been a younger brother or an assistant.

“You must be Dan!” the young man said cheerfully. “I’m Doug. Phil tells me you have potential.”

Apparently, this was indeed the guy who’d be training Dan.  _ Yet another early 20s person? Is this entire record label nothing but fresh uni graduates and children? _ Dan wondered.

“Is that what he says?”

“Yes.” Doug looked Dan up and down. “You look familiar.”

“Used to act,” Dan said with a bit of a sneer on his face. It was enough of a signal for Doug to stop the conversation there.

“Come on in,” he said.

He led Dan into his industrial-style apartment. The exposed brick walls and metal stairs up to the loft were stylish as hell, and Dan was rather impressed. Either this guy made a killer living doing vocal training or his parents were loaded.

Dan was led over to an elegant wooden upright piano on one side of the living room, the purchase of which was no doubt a space-saving decision. Dan figured if Doug wanted a larger piano he could almost certainly afford it.

“So,” Doug said. “First things first: I want to get some scales out of you. See how your control is, what your range is, and what you’re doing wrong so we can be more targeted about fixing it. I only have a month to turn you into a pop star, apparently, so getting straight to the point is probably the right move, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah okay,” Dan said shakily. He relaxed as best he could so his voice wasn’t tight, and they began.

Doug played a note. Dan sang it back.

“Nailed that, okay, good…” Doug muttered.

He continued up along the piano for a few notes until…

“Ah, no, you sort of scooped into that one. Try hitting it dead-on.”

Dan nodded, and tried again.

“Better. Okay, next one.”

They continued up and down the keys until Doug had enough for a general assessment.

“Okay, hear this note?” Doug said, tapping a key that was a bit on the high side. Dan nodded. “You were straining a lot here, but I noticed you were straining your face, too. Try that note again but relax your face more.”

Dan nodded, Doug played the note, Dan sang it back. It was surprisingly difficult to keep his face more slack, not squint his eyes, not wrinkle up his nose, but he did it. To his own surprise, he did indeed sound less strained.

“Much better!” Doug said. Dan couldn’t help but smile. If he was improving already, clearly this guy - while young - knew what he was doing.

They continued in this vein for about 45 minutes of the lesson. For the last few minutes, Doug went over a handout that covered voice care. It gave mostly common sense tips that Dan would have been able to figure out, like speaking low and only when necessary when not singing; but also new information he hadn’t thought of before, like drinking certain kinds of tea, using a vaporizer for one’s throat, and using ice & heat packs when necessary.

 

***

 

On Wednesday, Dan and his grandmother looked online for a contract lawyer. They got it narrowed down to 3.

“Do you think you can call them?” she asked him.

“I um… I don’t know. What do I even ask? What do I say?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” Alice said, putting Dan somewhat at ease because if a grown-up like his Nana didn’t know what to say, maybe it wasn’t so weird that  _ he _ didn’t. “I’ll call two of them with you in the room, on speaker so you can hear how the conversations go, and then you can call the last one. Would that work?”

Dan gives a determined nod. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

 

***

 

Thursday.

“Hello, Dan! Come on in.”

Doug let him in, and they headed over to the piano.

“Okay, before we get started with any more actual, y’know, singing, I wanted to get that breathing sorted.”

“My breathing?”

“Yeah, you’ve got way too much air coming out alongside your voice, especially the high notes. If you try to hold a note, you’re gonna like, pass out or something.”

“I think even if I  _ don’t _ try to hold a note I’ll pass out.”

“That out of shape?” Doug laughed.

“That and, I have this condition, it’s a long story, but. Yeah.”

“Okay, the passing out thing was mostly a joke, but you’re serious, aren't you?”

“Yeah, I had surgery on my esophagus when I was a baby, and now my circulation and breathing are a bit, like… not good.”

“Does Phil know you have a condition that makes it hard to breathe? Because you’re being signed as a pop artist, you realize.”

Dan gave Doug a questioning look, not entirely sure what he was specifically referring to.

“Depending on the image you guys decide to cultivate, you’ll probably be made to dance.”

“Oh.” Dan hadn’t considered that.

“So yeah, I’d bring that up with Phil as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“And of course, that means we  _ really _ need to focus on this stuff then. Okay, tighten up your diaphragm.”

“Um… how?”

Doug laughed a bit. “Okay, um… make like you’re about to lean forward. The muscles that tighten up? It’s in there.”

Dan nodded and tightened way too many muscles in his torso. Doug guided him through systematically relaxing his other muscles, focusing the work on only those muscles that controlled breathing while he talked or sang.

“Okay next step is to breathe while those muscles are tightened. Relax a bit to give your diaphragm a break and let me know when you’re ready.”

Dan took a few breaths, relaxing the stomach muscles that were already protesting out of exhaustion.

“Okay, I’m good.”

“Alright now tighten up your diaphragm,” Doug said. Dan obeyed. “Now just blow out imaginary birthday candles.” Dan smiled a bit and obeyed this command as well. “Awesome! You’re catching on to this a lot quicker than some of my other students.”

Dan let himself smile a bit wider, feeling proud of himself. It wasn’t something he got to feel very often.

Doug reached his hand forward and put two fingers out, barely poking Dan’s stomach, right above his navel. “Now, keep your diaphragm tight, blow out your imaginary candles, and lean forward onto my fingers. If you fall down, you’re not doing it right.”

Dan leaned into Doug’s fingers, and didn’t fall over, but he was missing a crucial step.

Doug smiled. “Not bad, not bad. Now try it again, but don’t hold your breath.”

“Ah, shit,” Dan sighed. “Okay. Jeez, this is hard!”

“It can be!” Doug laughed. “It was hard for me when I was younger too. Alright, ready?”

Dan nodded. He took a breath, tightened his diaphragm, and breathed out evenly through pursed lips. He was amazed how much focus it took just to breathe while also focusing on keeping his stomach tightened. He leaned forward, and once again didn’t fall over onto his face. 

“Excellent!” Doug said, encouraging him.

However, darkness began to crowd the outside of Dan’s vision and the room tilted slightly. His head began to feel somehow full, as though packed full of cotton. He wasn’t getting enough air and he knew it. Sure this was probably no big deal, Dan didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to be a bother or to look lazy, after all.

Doug could see Dan’s face begin to pale. “Alright, that’s enough of that. You okay?”

Dan relaxed and took a deep breath. His vision returned to normal and his head cleared. He nodded.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“Okay. You need the practice, obviously. We need you to get used to using that set of muscles while still getting enough oxygen, especially given your circumstances. So we’re gonna practice that at the beginning of every session, okay?”

“Sounds good,” he replied, trying to hide that he was upset he needed this extra practice and worried he was already too much of a bother.

 

***

 

On Friday, Marina came home from work slightly earlier than usual. It turned out she’d been let go from one of her jobs and now needed to look for a new one.

She channeled her frustrated energy into berating Dan for his decision to call Phil and pursue “another stupid entertainment job.”

“Why are you  _ looking for _ a lawyer, Dan?” she asked, disappointment and disgust all over her face. “You should  _ be _ a lawyer.”

Later that night, she apologized for lashing out the way she had, but the damage was already done.

Dan had a dream journal that Alice had bought for him years ago. The front half of the journal was indeed filled with quickly-scrawled recapitulations of dreams and nightmares. But tonight he flipped to the back pages, where random thoughts were scattered around without any sense of order or purpose, arranged with no arrangement.

“Don’t talk to me,” he wrote, “I’m gonna suck the life right out of you.”

 

***

 

Saturday.

Dan still turned a bit pale when practicing his breathing, but didn’t feel so dizzy this time.

Doug taught Dan how to enunciate by opening his mouth vertically rather than horizontally, which was particularly hard for long “e” sounds.

Halfway through this session, Dan became an odd mix of anxious and bored, and began to mentally check out.

That night was the first time he e-mailed Phil about the lessons. He wrote about the first few lessons and the progress he’d made, feeling the need to remind himself of that progress as much as anything else. Phil e-mailed back less than an hour afterward with words of congratulations and encouragement. While some of it seemed a bit disingenuous, Dan thought it was a nice gesture. It gave his mood a small boost that made it easier to get through the evening and most of the next day.

 

***

 

Monday.

Marina had a failed job interview and sulked all afternoon. The dark cloud surrounding her infiltrated Dan’s nose and eyes and ears and he was unable to carry the emotional weight for both of them. He went to his room immediately after dinner in order to get some fresh air away from her disappointment and frustration, but sleep still came with immense difficulty.

 

***

 

Tuesday.

Dan felt completely detached from the lesson. He listened, smiled and nodded, and did as instructed, but he wasn’t excited about progress like he had been in previous lessons. He didn’t internalize much, and came away from the lesson feeling as though he’d wasted his time.

 

***

 

Thursday.

Dan didn’t even go. He was too nervous to call Doug and say “sorry, I can’t make it, I’m depressed and useless,” so he simply didn’t show up.

When Phil called early that evening, Dan let it ring. He knew Doug must have told him he didn’t come. And now he was mad. Dan didn’t bother calling back either. What would he tell Phil if he did?

_ I’m a fucking failure, _ Dan thought.  _ I should never have gotten involved with this. Phil seems like such a nice guy, and here I am letting him down before I’ve even officially signed with him! I can’t do this. I can’t do anything. _

Someone knocked on his bedroom door. 

“Come in,” Dan said.

His grandma opened the door and peeked inside. Dan’s room was dark, but she could see him lying on his unmade bed, staring at the ceiling. Alice’s first thought was that he might be listening to music, but there were no headphones in his ears. “Hey,” she said gently. “Dinner’s about ready. Can you come help with the plates and everything?”

“Sure,” Dan said, entirely neutrally, and climbed off his bed.

“You feeling okay?” she asked, putting her hand on his forehead. “I noticed you didn’t go to your training today.”

“Yeah, Nana. I’m alright. Or I will be. I dunno.”

Alice paused and studied his face. He was clearly sad, but he was also clearly closed off right now. Avoiding eye contact, as he tended to do sometimes. “You know you can talk to me, yeah?”

Dan, once again not knowing how to say ‘I’m incredibly sad and have no motivation and it’s for absolutely no reason’ without looking like a crazy person, just nodded with a hint of the smile he wanted to be able to show her fully, but couldn’t.

“Thanks, Nana.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and random "note" in Dan's journal come from "tengoku e youkoso (Where's Heaven)" by Tokyo Incidents.


	5. Cut Me Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil is worried to death so he goes and checks on Dan. Dan knew he had to explain his health to Phil eventually, so he gets it over with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just the first half of a chapter that ended up so much longer than I originally intended, lol. Getting into Phil's mind a bit more was important so I went with it. Enjoy!

“What do you mean, he didn’t come?” Phil said into his phone, his face contorted with confusion and worry.

“I mean he just never showed up. What’s his phone number? I kind of want to call him, make sure he’s not in hospital or something…”

“Wait, why would he be in hospital?”

“Oh, did he not tell you yet?”

“Tell me what?”

“He’s got some condition that makes breathing hard for him. Something that required surgery when he was a baby. Anyway, we’ve been working through it, but seriously, it looks like he’s about to pass out whenever we do a fairly simple breathing exercise. Whatever his condition is exactly, it’s clearly pretty serious.”

Phil ran a hand down his face. “Jesus. Okay, shit. Um. I’ll give him a call and let you know.”

“Alright. Talk to you later, mate.”

“Bye.”

Phil hung up the phone and immediately dialed Dan’s number.

_ Booooooooop. _

“Come on, pick up, pick up…”

_ Booooooooop. _

“God dammit, Dan.”

_ Booooooooop. _

Dan never answered. Phil hung up. He paced the length of his office.

“You okay?” came Martyn’s voice.

“Yeah, just… Dan never showed up to his lesson today, and apparently he’s got a medical condition that has Doug worried, so.” Phil shrugged.

“That’s rough,” Martyn said. “Hope he’s alright. Anyway, I’m gonna head out. Store’s closed for the night. You gonna be heading home soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll lock up behind me.”

“Alright. Night, Phil.”

“Night, Martyn.”

Phil tried calling Dan one more time. Still no answer.

He’d gotten Dan’s mailing address near the end of their first phone conversation, but he’d be damned if he could remember it. He got up and headed over to their administrative assistant Sarah’s workspace to see if he could find it. He checked all her file drawers, but no sign of it. The top drawer in her desk was locked, but it was the only remaining place to check. Phil sighed. He was never all that good at misbehaving or doing anything against the rules, but maybe if he could find a couple of paper clips he could pick the lock. It couldn’t be  _ that _ sophisticated a mechanism in a cheap desk, could it?

He found two paper clips and unbent them, sticking them into the lock, just mimicking lockpickers he’d seen in things like heist movies. He blindly wiggled the paper clips for awhile, but nothing happened. He kept trying, but still nothing. Just as he was about to admit to himself that he was a complete idiot, that  _ of course _ this would never work and how could he be so ridiculous, he felt one of the clips catch on something.

_ No way. No way this stupid idea is actually working. _

He rotated the two paper clips until he felt something dislodge, and then he pulled on the drawer handle. And it slid open with ease.

_ Oh my god I am a criminal mastermind! _

The second piece of paper in a stack near the front was indeed Dan’s mailing address which, luckily, appeared to be an actual apartment and not a post box. He grabbed the paper, slammed the door shut, and headed out.

 

***

 

_ Knock knock knock. _

Phil waited outside. Nervous he might possibly have the address wrong, he double-checked the number on the outside of the door with the one written on the piece of paper in his hand. He very soon heard quick but even footsteps toward the door. An older woman answered.

“Hello there, can I help you?”

Phil was struck by how calm and kind she appeared to be. If Dan was in trouble, she certainly didn’t know about it, so either he was fine or he didn’t live here.

“Yes, is this Dan Howell’s residence?”

“Yes, hang on a moment.” She turned her head to call for Dan. “Daniel!”

“Yeah, Nana?” Dan’s voice. Phil felt so much better hearing it.

“There’s a young man at the door for you.”

Back in the dining room, Dan’s blood froze.  _ Oh god, _ he thought.  _ It’s Phil. He’s mad at me. _ There was no avoiding the conversation though, so he apprehensively marched toward the front door.

As soon as Phil’s eyes caught Dan’s, he smiled and exhaled. “Oh my god, Dan, you’re okay! Thank goodness, I was scared to death!”

Dan blinked, stunned by this reaction. Phil wasn’t mad at all. He was relieved.  _ Why does Phil give a shit? _ Dan wondered.

“Are you his vocal coach then?” Alice asked.

“No, I’m um…” Phil wasn’t sure how much background to give, not knowing how much Alice knew. He felt a bit awkward.

“This is Phil, the producer who scouted me,” Dan explained.  _ Oh, _ Phil thought.  _ So she knows the whole situation then. That makes it easier! _

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Phil!” She extended her hand for Phil to shake, and he did, feeling the urge to be polite around her. “I’m Alice, Dan’s grandmother. He’s spoken very highly of you.”

Now it was Phil’s turn to be surprised. “He does?”

“Nana, I’ll take it from here,” Dan said with a bashful smile. Alice smiled politely and headed back in to clean up their after-dinner mess. “Hey,” Dan said to Phil.

“Hey. Doug told me you didn’t come to your lesson today and he uh… he seemed concerned that maybe you were in hospital or something?”

“In hospital?” Dan said, his eyebrows raised. It took him a second to understand why Doug might think that, but when he did he almost laughed. “Oh! Yeah, no I’m fine, I just uh… I dunno.” Dan’s tone dropped to something perhaps more calm, but mostly just more serious. He almost sounded like he felt guilty. “Um, mentally, I guess, I wasn’t doing well today.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” Phil asked. His eyes were colored with genuine care and concern. Dan almost felt like maybe he could talk to him, but Phil was still his boss and it didn’t feel right to open up too much about things his mum had called “whinging.”

“I don’t think so,” Dan said. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

“There’s no shame in not being okay,” Phil said.

Dan looked at him, not knowing what to say in response because he wasn’t sure how he felt exactly.  _ Was _ this shame that he felt? Not especially. He was just… fine, that’s all. He was fine. There was nothing to  _ be _ ashamed of. Was there?

“But um,” Phil stammered after a silent moment, “Doug did tell me that you were having trouble breathing. He said you looked like you might pass out doing a breathing exercise.”

Dan breathed in and refocused. “Yeah, uh… d’you wanna come in? I want to show you something.”

“Sure, if it’s no intrusion.”

Dan shook his head and motioned for Phil to come in.

“Nana, Phil and I are going to talk in my room. Did you need any help before I go in there?”

“No, angel, but thank you so much. Give me a shout if you need anything!”

“Thanks Nana.”

“She calls you ‘angel’?” Phil asked as they entered Dan’s room. “That’s sweet.”

“That’s to do with what I want to show you, actually,” Dan said as he closed the bedroom door behind them.

Dan and Phil stood facing each other. Before he could stop himself, Dan took a calming breath and nervously removed his shirt.

“Whoa!” Phil said, quickly closing his eyes. “I’m your boss, and even if I wasn’t I am  _ not  _ ready for this.”

“Phil, come the fuck on, I’m not trying to have sex with you.”

Phil tentatively opened one eye and peeked at Dan. “Um. Okay. So…”

Dan turned his eyes away from Phil and slowly turned around.

“Oh,” Phil said, seeing the very difficult-to-miss scars going across Dan’s back. There were two messy slashes going across his shoulder blades, lighter than the rest of Dan’s already-pale complexion, one large one and one small one.

“What...” Phil began to ask, somewhat insensitively, he knew. But he didn’t know how else to prompt Dan to explain as much as he was comfortable explaining.

“When I was born,” Dan finally said, “my mum tried to feed me, like any mother usually does, and I just… couldn’t eat.” Dan turned his head slightly towards Phil, barely peeking over his shoulder before simply casting his eyes down and to the side so Phil could at least see him in profile. “I spit up everything. Literally everything. Didn’t eat, just choked and cried. My mum was probably scared to death. Anyway, they did some x-rays and it turned out my esophagus was this, like, v-shape. It um, it got more and more narrow going down until it was just totally closed up at my stomach. I had to have a couple of surgeries to fix it. They went in from the right side of my back, opened my esophagus back up, and I was able to eat properly once I healed.” 

“Can I… I mean… would it be weird if I touched them? I’ve never seen scars so pronounced in my life.”

Dan chuckled. “I feel like a science experiment.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to…”

“No, honestly it’s uh… it’s nothing new.” Dan was smiling, his urge to make Phil feel more at ease overriding his sense of feeling like a freak of nature. The same questions and stares that felt so oppressive from other people felt warm and caring coming from Phil somehow. He found he genuinely didn’t mind this. “So… yeah, I mean, I guess? Go ahead.”

Phil reached up and ran his fingertips across the larger of the two pale wounds decorating Dan’s back. “It’s kind of beautiful, in a weird way.”

“I thought they were ugly when I was little. To make me feel better my Dad would say I was just an angel who fell to earth, and my wings had to be removed. Otherwise I couldn’t fit into normal human clothes.” Dan smiled warmly at the memory. “One of the few things about my dad that I remember, him calling me his little angel. But my Nana carried on with the nickname. Never let me forget I was special.”

Phil wanted desperately to ask Dan about his father, but opted not to. He felt he’d done enough prying today.

“Anyway,” Dan said, pulling his shirt back on. “The surgery messed with my trachea too, and healing wasn’t a smooth process I guess, because now my breathing and circulation are both, like, complete disasters.”

“That’s why you almost passed out at your lessons?”

“Honestly, it’s not as big a deal as Doug is probably making it out to be.” Dan shook his head. “I haven’t passed out since I was really little, having growth spurts. I literally didn’t have enough blood for how fast my body was growing, my doctor said. But yeah, my physical activity has to be very moderate and singing is a bit hard if I push myself too much, but mostly I just get a bit of tunnel vision and it goes away in a moment. Even when I exercise, like, I get a bit dizzy for a bit but it never lasts long.”

“You say that like dizziness and tunnel vision are minor things,” Phil said.

“For most people, yeah, that’d be like… a sign your brain had something wrong like, I dunno, a tumor or something. But for me they’re just… life.” Dan shrugged.

Phil had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. So he changed the subject. He figured something more work-related would be the most appropriate. He cleared his throat.

“So how uh… how goes the search for a lawyer?”

“Good,” Dan said. “I think we found one yesterday afternoon, he sounds like he’s alright. Did you want me to come by on Monday if he’s available then?”

“Perfect,” Phil said, standing up. “I should get going, I don’t want to intrude anymore.”

“Oh okay,” Dan replied. He opened his bedroom door for Phil, and immediately heard his mother’s grumpy voice as they stepped out.

“...he’s not capable of that, and you know it,” she was saying.

“How can you possibly know that? You haven’t seen him really try.”

“He’s sick, mum. He couldn’t even play tag with the other kids.”

“You _forced_ him to stay away from other kids, Marina.”

“Only because they were already laughing at him! I was just trying to keep him from getting hurt.”

“You’ve always done that, and he’s always gotten hurt anyway. Probably worse.”

“Hi, Mum,” Dan said.

Phil stood back away from them all and just sort of looked around the room, pretending the sparse decor was enough to keep him engaged.

“Dan,” Marina said with a fake smile. She had to have known that Dan heard all she’d said, but she made it quite clear that she wasn’t going to address it. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“My boss, actually. Mum, this is Phil Lester from Lester Music. Phil, this is my mother, Marina Howell.”

They shook hands in a tense moment.

“Howell was my married name, I don’t use it. Marina Allerton is my name these days.”

“Not legally,” Dan spat.

Once again, Phil bit his tongue rather than ask about Dan’s father.

“You’re almost as quiet as Daniel is,” Marina said.

Phil opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was “Oh.”

“Phil has to go, Mum.”

“Lovely meeting you,” Marina said.

Dan didn’t even look at her -- or allow Phil to -- as he pushed him lightly out the door next to himself.

They stood outside the closed front door to Dan’s home and Dan looked at Phil apologetically.

“I’m sorry, she’s um... “

“It’s okay, you don’t need to elaborate.”

“Good, because honestly I don’t know what she is. She’s one of those people who thinks she’s totally fine but everyone looking at her from the outside can tell she needs to see someone. But she uses ‘you need help’ as an insult, so how the fuck do we get her to do that, you know?”

“She uh… she’s certainly quite intense.”

“Understatement,” Dan replied. “I love her and everything, but… yeah. It just sometimes feels like I have to calculate my every move based on her mood.”

Phil nodded. “Well, um. I’m glad you’re okay,” he eventually said, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” Dan said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t like, on the floor bleeding or something.”

“Like I said, Dan, there’s no shame in not being okay. Your mum isn’t the only one who needs to learn that, apparently.”

Dan nodded. He had to admit that Phil was right. Whatever his mind was doing wasn’t all that different from what his mother’s was doing. They were both just scared, in the end, defending themselves the best way they knew how. The only difference seemed to be that Dan’s mind was attacking himself, and his mother’s was attacking everyone else.

“You’re a good person,” Phil added. “And you’re beautiful. Never forget that, okay? Being a singer, being in the public eye… it’s only going to make that insecure voice inside your head louder sometimes, so I need you to remember that, okay? Always.”

Dan nodded again, looking Phil in the eyes. He hadn’t really given himself time to appreciate the kindness behind them. The blue, sure, but not the soul they were the window to. As far as Dan was concerned, Phil was the angel, not him.

_ I’m the one who’s supposedly beautiful? _ Dan thought.

It was in that moment that Dan realized how much he trusted Phil. And suddenly, he was seized with a strange sort of fear. He’d never trusted anyone who didn’t betray or abandon him somehow -- aside from his grandmother, of course, but he knew she wouldn't last forever. T rust meant only one thing to Dan, and that was eventual heartbreak.

But right now, Phil meant safety. Phil meant security. Phil meant kindness. And Dan was pretty sure he was seconds away from a panic attack at the thought of having to go back inside. He really needed a safe, secure, kind person to help him stave it off. So he conquered his fear of trust and, for just that moment, he let himself trust Phil completely.

“I don’t want to go back in there,” Dan whispered. “It’s not like she hits me or anything, and my grandma keeps her from getting too out of line with me, but… it’s just so much. It’s like stepping onto a planet with too much gravity or something.”

“Do you need a hug?” Phil asked.

Dan nodded.

Phil wrapped Dan up in his arms, and Dan let himself try to relax. He closed his eyes, letting himself smell Phil’s light cologne, feel his warmth, and hear his heartbeat and breathing. Dan’s heart slowed, and his breathing evened out. He smiled.  _ No panic attack today, _ he thought triumphantly. He squeezed Phil tightly, and Phil tightened the hug on his end in response.

“Why do I feel so safe with you?” Dan’s muffled voice asked. He wasn’t expecting an answer really, which was all the better since Phil had no idea.

Phil just felt honored, really. Not much more to it than that. 

At least that’s what he told himself.

 

***

 

“Cut me free, cut me free, cut me free, cut me free...” Dan wrote in the back of his journal. “Like a broken record, you tell me I’m strange, you tell me I’m gonna choke, you tell me I can’t forget, you tell me I can’t escape… you’re strong, and you just get stronger when I believe you. And I’m the one who keeps you alive. But when you fall asleep, the ropes come undone…”

He closed his eyes and imagined he was hugging Phil again.

“If only I could stay there all the time,” he wrote.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus Dan's crush on Phil truly begins.
> 
> (Author's Note: Phil breaking into the desk was only even remotely okay because Dan GAVE Lester Music his address, AND Phil was genuinely sure Dan might possibly be dead or dying. There is nuance present in the story that makes it not creepy. PLEASE DO NOT STALK PEOPLE IT IS NOT ROMANTIC OR KIND TO DO THAT.)
> 
> The chapter title and Dan's notes are paraphrased from "Cut Me Free" by Olivia Lufkin.


	6. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan gets a recording contract for his 18th birthday. But for some reason that isn't the gift that means the most to him.

Coincidentally, it was Dan’s 18th birthday.

He rarely did anything for his birthday anymore. He had a small but fun party with some friends when he turned 10, but by the time he was 11, half his friends had become jealous of how often they saw his face in the photos used by local businesses for ads, posters, and random crap on the internet. When he turned 16, he’d just quit Moonlight Talent and finally had some normal friends and was excited to do something normal, so he invited about 20 people to a party at a pizza place near his house. He got 5 “no” replies, 8 “maybe”s, and the rest didn’t reply at all. In the end, two people showed up. His mum was angry that she paid so much money for no reason. His Nana was kind enough to focus on the bright side: all the leftover pizza and cake that filled their refrigerator afterwards.

But Dan learned his lesson and didn’t do anything at all for his 17th birthday.

Today, however, he was getting quite possibly the most extravagant birthday gift anyone could have: a recording contract.

He was waiting outside the Lester Music storefront for his new lawyer, one mister Jack Howard, to meet him there. After having looked through the contract himself, Dan had forwarded it to Jack with questions about what certain paragraphs and clauses meant exactly. Generally, the contract was “shockingly fair,” according to Jack. It stipulated that Dan would get paid a percentage of the income Lester Music earned for literally  _ anything _ with his name or face on it, with a higher percentage going to him whenever he’d contributed creatively, which was far more than most singers at major record labels got.

Dan was crouching down as he waited, looking at a dandelion poking its way up through a crack in the pavement.

_ Why do you bother, _ he thought.  _ You’re just gonna get trampled. And yet here you are, reaching for the sunlight regardless. _ He tilted his head.  _ Pretty fucking brave. Wish I could be more like you. _

Just then a shiny black loafer stomped on the dandelion.

_ Or maybe not, _ Dan thought. He followed the person’s leg upward until he saw Jack’s face.

“Hello there, Daniel! Let’s head in and sign this contract of yours then, hm?”

Dan smiled politely as he began to try to stand up, dusting his hands off but taking his sweet time. Jack looked at him curiously.

“Sorry,” Dan said with a grunt, “I have to stand up slowly or I’ll get dizzy.”

“I won’t pretend to understand that but I’m sure it makes sense somehow.”

 

***

 

Dan and Jack walked through the shop portion of Lester Music. Dan looked around to see row after row of used CDs along every wall and running through the middle of the store. Vinyl records covered the walls above the CD shelves, and there was even a small corner of cassettes. Dan made a mental note to go through the CDs later just in case they had the Japanese pressing of Radiohead’s “Knives Out” single or something cool like that. It was unlikely, but a guy could dream.

They approached the Employees Only door in the back of the shop, which apparently held the record label offices behind it. Dan pushed the door open, and was greeted by bright fluorescent lighting. The stark white exposed-brick hallway was a bit prisonlike, but the walls were covered in funny comic strips and parody motivational posters that were no doubt intended to help Phil and whoever else worked here get through the day.

Dan and Jack walked into Phil’s office, and saw two other people there. One boy, about Dan’s age, was standing confidently with folded arms while another young man, probably closer to Phil’s age, was sitting with a relaxed posture on a chair across from Phil’s desk.

Dan squinted his eyes and tilted his head looking at the second guy’s familiar mop of messy hair. When the guy turned toward the door to see who’d just walked in, Dan’s eyes met his.

For a second they each struggled to remember how they knew the other, and then the guy’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh my god, Daniel?” he said.

As soon as he heard that Yorkshire accent, Dan recognized him. It was Chris Kendall, for a time Dan’s roommate at the Moonlight Talent dorms. And one of his closest friends. The kind of person you reminisce and wonder about long after the last time you speak to one another.

“Senpai!!” Dan cried happily. Chris stood up and they shared a tight bear hug.

“You two know each other?” Phil asked with a surprised grin as they pulled apart.

“I worked and roomed with him at Moonlight,” Chris explained happily. “we’ve done a couple commercials together! When you said you had a third member coming in, I never expected it’d be one of my old chums from back then.”

“Chris helped me through a lot,” Dan said fondly, without elaboration, but the relieved sort of warmth in his eyes gave nearly everything away.

Phil smiled, feeling more proud than he wanted to admit for helping facilitate this reunion. “Well, you already know Chris. So I’d like to introduce you to PJ Liguori.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dan said, shaking PJ’s hand.

“You too!” PJ replied with the charming sort of smile that could make you forget your name.

“Wow,” Dan muttered, shaking off the effects.

“So here’s the deal,” Phil says. “The plan is for the three of you to be in a group together. Dan, I would like to try a solo project with you as well, but for now I want to ease you into the industry with a group. You can all help carry each other.”

“I still have misgivings about this,” PJ said. “I mean, Chris and I had a good duality going. North and South, Dark and Light, you know? The concept worked.”

“Oh,” Dan said quietly, not having realized he was being stuck into a pre-existing group. “I don’t want to be like, a third wheel or anything,” Dan said.

Phil chuckled. “You won’t be. I’ll rework the concept, you know, the roles you’ll play. You’ll still debut with the same song, but the vocals will be divided up differently.”

“I’m all for it!” Chris said. “I’m excited to work with Daniel again.”

Just then, another lawyer stepped in to Phil’s now quite cramped office.

“Sorry for the delay, I-- Jack.” The new lawyer glared at Jack, giving him a bit of a side-eye.

“Dean,” Jack replied. It was a rather comically standoffish moment.

“You two know each other too?” Dan asked.

“Sellout,” Jack said.

“Mama’s boy,” Dean said.

“Whoa, hey,” Phil said, putting his hands up. “Let’s keep the peace here, we’re all on the same team.”

Dean didn’t stop glaring as Jack shifted off to one side to let him by. Once Dean got around to the other side of Phil’s desk, they all discussed the contracts, giving basic summaries of their understanding of the terms. Nobody wanted any changes from what Dan was hearing, so they all signed. It was a good thing Dan trusted both Jack and Phil so much because the emotional whirlwind of the day had caught him entirely, and he was barely aware of the goings-on around him.

And with a few pen strokes, Dan Howell was officially an artist under Lester Music, and a member of the as-yet-unnamed group with Chris and PJ.

He was aware enough to smile. He was pretty sure that perhaps Phil and his groupmates were applauding for a second after the signatures were completed, but his mind was so full of fog and static that looking back later he wouldn’t remember for sure.

Before they left, Jack and Dean spoke with each other for a bit (completely amicably - it appeared to Dan that their rivalry was a friendly one). Chris and PJ took off for the day as well not long afterward, with vague handshakes and promises to be back another day to work out “creative details.”

Finally, Dan’s head was clear. He was aware again. When the people left the room and the din was eliminated, Dan could think straight. He was about to head home when Phil stopped him.

“Oh, Dan, before you go…” 

The sound of Phil’s voice was clear and sharp now as though finally someone was speaking Dan’s language after he’d been hearing gibberish for hours. So dan perked his head up. “Hm?”

“We got something in last week and I thought of you, so I set it aside in case you wanted it.” Phil pointed at Dan. “Radiohead, right?”

There was a lot for him to process here in what Phil was saying. Phil thought of him? Ever? For any non-business reason? And remembered that he liked Radiohead? He could only think to reply with “Wha?” as opposed to anything coherent.

“They’re your favorite band, you said.”

“Oh. Uh… yeah, that’s right.”

“Are you more of a Pablo Honey Radiohead fan or more of an OK Computer Radiohead fan?”

“I sang Paranoid Android at karaoke,” Dan said with a semi-sarcastic grin. “I’d imagine you can figure that one out. Besides, no  _ real _ Radiohead fan is a Pablo Honey Radiohead fan.” Dan punctuated this only slightly controversial observation with a chuckle.

“Good,” Phil said, as he turned and pulled something down off a shelf above his desk. “That’s what I figured.” 

If Dan’s senses hadn’t been so overloaded earlier, if he’d had the presence of mind to look around the office and take it all in, he would have probably noticed the translucent blue box on Phil’s shelf. So when he noticed it now, and Phil pulled it down where he could see it properly, he actually gasped.

Phil handed the box to him. “The ‘Desktop’ box set,” he announced. “All of the OK Computer era singles, plus all the extras. Near mint condition, it was already opened though. I took the liberty of checking it for you. I forget the number, but it’s one hundred and something out of 500 so a fairly early one. The AM radio might not work, but it’s there. T-shirt, mousepad, the whole lot.”

Dan took the box in his hand and rotated it around to look at it as Phil nervously rattled off everything he could about this particular copy. “Oh my god, Phil, this… this has to be at least like 500 pounds, I can’t afford this.”

“It’s okay, I can.”

Dan looked at Phil, unable to breathe. 

“I can’t accept this,” he finally said.

“Happy Birthday, Dan,” Phil said simply.

Dan wanted to push back.  _ No, my birthday doesn’t mean that much. 500 pounds, are you kidding me? This is like, the holy grail of rare Radiohead releases, you can’t give me this. It’s too much, I don’t deserve it. _ He found himself holding the box out in front of him, toward Phil, away from himself.

But Phil had his hands behind his back. He was smiling at Dan and not even shifting his body weight as though he was thinking of reaching out to take it back.

Dan stared at him in awe.

Compared to a recording contract, this box set should not have been such an extravagance to Dan. It was just a  _ thing, _ it wasn’t a career or a legal arrangement.

And yet, looking back on his 18th birthday, Dan would later remember  _ this _ moment the most clearly.  _ This _ was the greatest birthday gift he’d ever received.

“Uh… fuck. Wow. Thank you.”

 

***

 

The box set sat on Dan’s highest shelf, where he knew his mother was too short to reach. He gazed at it as he lay in bed that night.

He began to feel a tightening in his chest.

Phil gave him so much in one single day. He gave him a rare CD set that he’d wanted for ages. He gave him a career. He gave him confidence. And he gave him this ridiculous idea that maybe he could actually do something with his life.

What even was he before he met Phil?

He got out his journal.

 

“Everyone passed by it, not paying it any notice,” he wrote, “but you took this piece of junk and held onto it like it was precious. People probably looked at you funny, but you just smiled and said ‘this is treasure.’”

 

He closed his journal and looked up at the box again.

And he thought of Phil’s face as he said “happy birthday” to him. He thought of Phil’s eyes, and how that blue topaz color looked under the fluorescent office lighting. How were they still so bright? And why did Dan suddenly think he was a hundred times more beautiful just because Phil gave him a limited edition Radiohead box set? It was so stupid, so silly, so ridiculous that the translucent blue of the box’s outer sleeve reminded him so much of Phil’s eyes. They weren’t even the same shade of blue. This box was more smoky, and Phil’s eyes were more like crystalline water. Clear, powerful, and full of depth.

He got out his journal again.

 

“Crystalline

Collide with my eyes

Your alluring glow takes me from here to you”

 

“Do you think of me the way I think of you?”

 

***

 

A few days later, Dan, Chris, and PJ were in a meeting with Phil at the Lester Music office. They were discussing the band’s image and what roles the members would be assigned based on their personalities.

  
  


“So what I want to do is this,” Phil began, sitting casually on top of his desk while Dan and the others were on the rather stiff and uncomfortable chairs opposite him. “Dan, you’ll be the dark and brooding one who’s really cool and wears black all the time.”

“Well that’ll be easy,” Dan quipped.

“Chris, you’ll be the goofy fun-loving one. You’ll make all the bad jokes, always be smiling, all that. And PJ, that leaves you to be the dreamy one.”

Dan and Chris both moaned dissatisfied “Aw!”s.

“Come on, mate, Dan and I are handsome too!” Chris said.

“Yeah! And I’m the dark, brooding one when Chris is the funny one? Have you talked to Chris? That guy’s only funny to cover up his misery. No offense.”

“None taken,” Chris replies. “I pride myself on being miserable.”

“Yes but you’re not exactly goofy or silly, Dan. You’re too shy and reserved. But we can definitely sell you as like, deep and philosophical.”

“I love how no one is saying I could be anything but the dreamy one,” PJ said with a smile, his arms folded.

“Shut up, you,” Dan said, pointing playfully at PJ.

“Look, each of you is dreamy, funny,  _ and _ deep to some degree. Picking your roles isn’t necessarily gonna be a hundred percent accurate, but the general public is a fan of pigeonholing people into oversimplified personalities. You think Baby Spice wasn’t scary sometimes?” Phil scoffed.

“Fine,” Chris moaned. “I’ll be the goofy one. Drive myself slowly mad by keeping a jester mask on my face.”

“That’s the spirit!” Phil said before catching how embarrassingly wrong that reaction was and making a face at himself.

Dan facepalmed.

“Anyway, for a name, I’m thinking HKL. From your last names -- Howell, Kendall, Liguori.”

“Nice,” Dan said. “Very K-Pop.”

“What’s K-Pop?” Chris asked.

“Korean pop music,” PJ explained. “It’s getting quite a lot of traction with the kids these days.”

 

***

 

HKL’s debut single was already written, and the initial mix of the instrumental track had arrived at Phil’s office the previous day so he played the FLAC file he had on a digital audio player that sat in the corner of his office. His speakers weren’t state of the art, but it was enough to get the group up to speed on how the track sounded.

The song had a decent beat, definitely slickly produced and intended for dancing. It wasn’t exactly Dan’s first choice for his music debut, but PJ appeared to be digging it, and Chris didn’t seem to care either way as long as he got a paycheck from someone who wasn’t evil.

Dan finally looked down at the lyric sheet that accompanied the instrumental and he just glared at it.

“What the fuck are these lyrics?” Dan suddenly said. Phil paused playback on the DAP.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I mean… how is this in any way relatable to anyone? I know I’m just a stupid teenager and everything, and maybe I don’t understand the intricacies of the music industry, but like… I mean, I get it, ‘love’ rhymes easily with ‘above’ but that’s just… no one puts that shit in their journal, you know? Besides, these words are so happy-scrappy but like, I dunno, I’m hearing sadness in this demo. There’s a bittersweetness to that chord progression. Maybe I’m crazy, but… yeah, I just don’t get these lyrics at all.”

“And I suppose you can do better?” PJ said sarcastically but with no real anger behind it; mostly just amusement.

Dan froze a bit, however. “N--no, I was just saying, like…”

“Actually,” Phil said, “It would save us money in the short term if you wrote lyrics. If you think you can, of course, I mean…  _ I _ think you can, but it’s up to you.”

_ I think you can. _ Phil’s words echoed in Dan’s mind.

Dan looked between the other three, his doe eyes wide in search of something like guidance. Or perhaps discouragement, the thing he’d been most trained to expect over the course of his life.

“You used to be quite a good writer back in the day,” Chris said. “Some of the letters you wrote me after I left were quite stirring. And I mean that sincerely.”

“And remember that thing you said once about the gravity when you walked back into your house?” Phil asked. “And your emails have touched on some great metaphors sometimes.”

“You’re not seriously…” Dan looked around. Everyone had these expectant looks on their faces. “You really think I should try to write lyrics?”

“Like I said, it’s no pressure, really,” Phil said. “But I’m actually kind of… I’m curious how lyrics by you would sound. Maybe it would even make the finished product better if you were singing your own words.”

Dan gaped. “U--uh… I mean… I guess… maybe I could try it?”  _ What the fuck am I doing, _ he thought.  _ God dammit Daniel can’t you keep your stupid mouth shut for five seconds before agreeing to something like this? _

“Do you want to send the guys home for tonight and workshop some lyrics with me?” Phil asked.

Dan blinked. “Sure…” he said. He was on complete autopilot due to nerves, having been put on the spot like this. “Why not?”

“Mind if we come back tomorrow, then?” Chris asked. “I’m curious to hear what you come up with!”

“Me too,” PJ said. “You know, we could be like, that _ honest _ boy band, the less manufactured one who writes their own material. I’m all for that.” He was all smiles.

“Alright,” Phil said. “Yeah, you guys go ahead and take off and leave me and Dan to it. We’ll meet here tomorrow at, what, one o’clock? Right after lunch?”

“Works for me,” Chris said.

PJ agreed.

And Dan and Phil were left alone in the office yet again.

Dan gulped.

There was just so much to be nervous about right then.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MANY NOTES okay so here goes:
> 
> The first set of lyrics in Dan's journal are from "TO BE" by Ayumi Hamasaki  
> The second set of lyrics are from "crystalline" by Olivia Lufkin  
> The song I have in mind when writing about HKL's first single demo is "PARTY IT UP" by AAA.
> 
> Next chapter is another interview chapter.
> 
> And seriously if you come across that Radiohead box set in good condition for anything less than 500 pounds grab it, and then maybe send it to me, I've been lusting after it for YEARS hahahaha


	7. Interview: Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane asks Dan about that writing session with Phil and his existing relationship with Chris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There's a brief, vague, and hopefully non-triggering mention of something that happened to Dan at Moonlight Talent. You CAN skip this chapter and not miss a crapton of the story if that will really bother you. The chapter end notes will summarize this chapter for you.

“I’m gonna bet the sexual tension was… interesting!” Shane said.

“To say the least,” Dan replied, nervously chuckling. “At least on my side of things. By this point, I was not denying that I liked him. Not to myself anymore, anyway. Now that he’d given me that damn box set, oh my god.” Dan closed his eyes, as though if he couldn’t see Shane then Shane couldn’t see his cheeks turning red.

“The way to your heart is through your CD collection?” Shane teased.

“You know what,” Dan said, “yes, and that’s still true!”

“Was it really just that gift that sort of tilted you over the edge?”

“I think in retrospect the gift just confirmed something that my brain had already mostly decided, or at least hoped. That this guy was going to take care of me. The fact that he saw that box set and thought of me, otherwise unprompted, was like… You know, it’s one thing to care about someone when they’re physically around you, when you can’t help but think of them. But when there’s like, real tangible evidence that they thought of you when you weren’t around, you feel like… like you’ve made an impact on their life somehow. He made me feel like I mattered already, but that gift internalized that idea in me.”

“And so being in his office with him, that was like ‘oh I’m working with someone who really thinks I’m important.’”

“Yes. Which did two things, one, it made me just… want to jump out of the chair and kiss him, pretty much,” Dan said with an awkward laugh. “The other thing was that it gave me some stagefright, you know? There were all these expectations now, and I had to meet them. I felt so on the spot, being in there to actually create something for him, and with him. Lyrics were this whole new challenge for me. Writing e-mails is one thing but lyrics… That requires choosing words that flow well together, whose sounds are complementary, whose rhythms fit the song well. It’s not the same as writing a letter or coming up with metaphors in conversation, especially when you’re so… like, I’m such a perfectionist and at 17, 18 years old I had a tendency to give up whenever I wasn’t perfect at anything on the first try. I had no confidence I could do it. Phil had to convince me to stop when I felt like it was maybe acceptable work, there was so much I could see that was wrong with it, but Phil told me it was good. So I let it go, and eventually went home, but I was so nervous about those lyrics. But then critics ended up loving the sort of undercurrent darkness Phil and I put into ‘Party It Up,’ so I was much more confident after the fact.”

“So then, exactly how  _ was _ that writing session with Phil? Like… was there any flirting going on?” Shane giggled nervously, knowing he was probably being too direct, but Dan was only giving him half of the story he wanted so he felt the need to be more clear.

With a slight eyeroll, Dan gave the people what they wanted. “Look, I mean… yeah, the session was… charged. Sort of. In the song, there’s that lyric ‘tell me how you feel.’ He wrote that one.” Dan’s eyes focused on empty space as he spoke, remembering that session. “He suggested that lyric, and he was looking me dead in the eye as he said it, and I froze for what felt like forever. Probably looked like a complete idiot!” Dan laughed. “But… in general, there wasn’t explicit flirting going on really. Just… things I read too much into, maybe. That’s not to say the session wasn’t amazing though. He made me feel… like a professional being taken seriously. He never talked down to me. Listened to every thought I had. He respected every idea I blurted out no matter how ridiculous. He disagreed kindly, and when he agreed with me he sounded so excited.” Dan’s voice was soft and almost distant, as though he were trying to wish himself back to 2009.

“You were already in love, weren't you?”

“I was newly 18, i didn't know what love was. But I was crushing super hard on the guy, I can say that for certain.”

Shane smiled. “I wish I could have seen how you were looking at him.”

Dan was blushing and covering the bottom half of his face. “Shut up,” he laughed.

“Okay okay okay,” Shane said, adjusting his seating posture so he was more upright. “Changing gears a bit, can we talk about how you already knew Chris?”

“Yeah, he was my roommate in the dorms at Moonlight. He was older and had been there a few years, and he taught me a lot. He helped with my on-cue crying, comedy timing, that sort of stuff. He was a far better trainer than any of the actual trainers there. I called him senpai as a joke when I first got there, but it stuck. Called him that the whole time we were there together. And… when the abuse got really bad once, um...”

Dan paused then, a distant look in his eyes. He took a deep breath in and tensed up. His posture changed entirely, the confident pop music legend gone in favor of a frightened child. He was about to speak when Shane cut in again.

“You don’t need to go into that if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Dan straightened his back up as best he could and breathed out. “I don’t want to trigger anyone watching so I won’t go into detail, but… Chris… Fought back once. When I got attacked by one of the trainers at Moonlight. I was 15 at that point, and Chris was I think 19, so I guess he felt this urge to watch over me, I don’t know... But one night I was being cornered, like actually pushed into the corner of my room, and he -- the trainer -- was yelling at me for, I don’t know, not standing right. And... Chris punched the guy square in the face.” Dan gave a bitter laugh at the memory. “That night, Chris held me until I fell asleep. I’d been so scared, and he heard me crying so he just crawled into my bunk and hugged me, stroked my hair. He was the closest thing to a brother I ever had, until he left Moonlight.”

“Did you feel betrayed when he left?”

“No,” Dan stated simply, no hint of hesitation in his voice. “He was already my ‘senpai’ and my big brother, but honestly, when he left, that’s when he became my hero.”

“You’re gonna make me cry!” Shane said, smiling, his eyes shining with stubborn hints of tears.

Dan laughed heartily. “Keep it together, man!” he joked. “Come on, you’re supposed to be a professional!”

Shane dabbed at the corners of his eyes. “Oh, you have no idea how much unprofessionalism gets cut out of these things.” He smiled and collected himself. “Anyway, continue!”

“So yeah… I wrote to Chris a couple times after he left, mostly venting. Eventually I swallowed my pride and left Moonlight. Moved into my mum’s new flat. That… was hard to do, but she… she was supportive, she just… I don’t know, I don’t really know how to sum up my mum. Anyway. Chris and I both got busy, just working and everything, so we fell out of contact but… I couldn’t have found the will to leave if he hadn’t shown me it was possible, basically.”

“How did it feel to see him in Phil Lester’s office?”

Dan smiled brightly. “Like opening the best Christmas gift ever. Or the second best birthday gift ever, yeah?” Dan chuckled. “I was so excited to see him. Just to  _ see _ him. Then once I internalized we’d be working together I was even more excited. Like, between him and Phil, I was going to be able to, y’know, be an entertainer -- which, again, was all I knew how to do -- but I would also be encouraged instead of abused and yelled at and… Like, I was going to be safe. And I never thought I could have it both ways.”

“But you never had romantic feelings for Chris.”

“No,” Dan said nonchalantly. “I was definitely a brotherhood sort of thing we had. Still have. Apologies to the shippers,” Dan laughed.

“So how did you end up splitting off on your own from HKL?”

“Gradually. Hilariously gradually. My god, what a comedy of errors that was. It’s hard to imagine now, but Phil… I mean, he was 22. He had no idea what he was doing. And… it showed!” Dan snickered, clearly having a good time making fun of Phil in his younger days. “He was winging it, really. And yeah, the mistakes he made were learning experiences. But at the time, it was just…” Dan shook his head. “Alright, so… it started with our first attempt at making a video.”

“Attempt?” Shane asked.

“Oh yes,” Dan said with a smirk. “Get your popcorn, and prepare for a tale of incompetence. Sorry, Phil, I’m about to make you look like an idiot!”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a reference to "Trust" by Ayumi Hamasaki.
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> Dan was no longer denying his crush on Phil so Dan let himself read a lot into some possibly-flirty lyric ideas Phil came up with. He let himself feel like flirting was happening, but even now he isn't sure if that's what it was.
> 
> Phil's birthday gift to Dan had been physical evidence that Phil thought of Dan even when they weren't in the same room, and that meant a lot to him.
> 
> Chris was Dan's roommate at Moonlight Talent, and Dan called him "senpai" as a joke because he was older & more experienced, but the nickname stuck. Chris one day rescued Dan from imminent abuse and they've been like brothers ever since. No romantic interest between them. When Chris left Moonlight, it helped Dan have the strength to eventually leave as well.
> 
> Dan's departure from HKL was a "gradual" "comedy of errors" which began with their attempt at making a music video, and this segues into the next chapter.


	8. Believe in you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan can't dance for long enough to make a music video for "Party It Up," but the video shoot still has to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took all week, haha. Hopefully the length makes the wait worth it! I'm actually really proud of the symbolism in parts of this chapter. :)

“Party It Up” was released on October 19th, for all intents and purposes. It should have been released a day earlier, but due to his inexperience Phil wasn’t prepared for how many shops he’d have to visit in person to ask them to stock the CD version. But the day before, there were copies at Lester Music. Not that anyone bought on the first day -- Lester Music didn’t have the money to create marketing hype for a group that had no reputation yet, so a delay of a day or two made little if any difference.

It took some time, but digital sales did well and physical sales followed. Once a few music bloggers had caught word of the new boy band and their uniquely dark sound, word spread reasonably fast. Dan’s remaining internet fans learned who one of the members was and collectively lost their composure - fan pages and forums sprung back to life seemingly overnight. 

In part thanks to Dan’s limited star power, the single ultimately sold about 2,500 copies which was not only not bad, but downright stellar for a no-name group.

However, nearly every fan of Dan’s had one question: why was there no music video they can show people?

 

***

 

“How’s your sense of rhythm, Dan?” Phil asked Dan over the phone one day.

“Um… I can play DDR pretty well, but not for long. Like one song at a time, maybe two before I need to take a break. But I get high scores. I dunno if that counts.”

“That’s probably enough to work with. ‘Party It Up’ is doing pretty well. Like, shockingly well, actually. I want to get a music video filmed for it as soon as possible so we can put it on YouTube and generate some more buzz around you guys.”

“A video?! That’d be… that’d be insane. I mean, in a good way, obviously.”

“A friend of mine is going to work with you and the others on some choreography. Can you come to You Know Max dance studio tomorrow at 8 AM?”

“There’s an 8 AM?” Dan joked.

Phil’s smile was audible. “Tomorrow there is! See you bright and early, yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

 

***

 

“Hey, Changmin,” Phil said as he got out of his car.

Changmin Shim was standing outside the door of You Know Max dance studio waiting for his new clients to arrive. “Hi Phil!”

“The boys should be here in a bit. I need to chat with Dan before you get started with them, alright?”

“You got it. I’ll head in and get set up.”

Changmin went inside to get the music cued up just as two cars pulled up - one with Chris and PJ carpooling together, and one driven by Dan’s grandmother, with Dan in the passenger seat next to her.

Phil greeted Chris and PJ politely while Dan got an embarrassing kiss on the cheek from his grandmother. Dan got out of the car just as the other two HKL members went inside the dance studio.

“Hey, Dan? Can I talk to you before you head inside?”

“Sure,” Dan said. His posture was suddenly a bit more guarded, Phil noted.

“So here’s the thing. You need to tell the choreographer about your condition, okay?”

Dan made a doubtful, nervous face. A face that said he knew he had to, but he wished he didn’t. He nodded.

“I know I can’t push you too hard on this, but he is in charge of giving you a workout -- sorry, that came out wrong -- but yeah, anyway… in order to keep you from overexerting yourself, you’ll have to make your limitations clear, okay?”

“I wish you could talk to him instead of me,” Dan said with a pout. 

Phil smiled warmly. “I know. Ethically and legally I can’t, though. Otherwise I would, I promise.” Phil put a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

“Are you staying?” Dan asked.

“Sadly, no. I have a meeting with a CD pressing plant on the other side of the city at 9, so I have to get going in just a minute.”

Dan’s chin lowered slightly.

“You going to be okay without me here?” Phil asked, truly concerned.

Dan nodded, trying to feign confidence. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Phil says, not entirely convinced, but not wanting to be overbearing either.

Phil went inside with Dan where he then spoke to Changmin briefly, making sure he knew to talk to Dan before they got started. It was all he was able to do to make sure the conversation happened at all.

“Alright guys,” Phil said, addressing the rest of the group. “I have to take off sadly, as I have to meet with some CD manufacturers to see about their rates and such. My meeting is at 9, so I need to take off, but before I go, do any of you have any questions or anything?”

The boys all shook their heads.

“Okay! Do your best today, Changmin is great, you’re in good hands. I’ll catch up with you all later today.”

Phil gave a quick wave and was out the door.

“Alright,” Changmin said. “Before we get going here, Dan, Phil said you needed to speak with me?”

“Oh, uh… yes.” Dan stepped over to Chanmin so they could have the conversation out of earshot of the other two. “So um, I have this condition that makes breathing difficult. Surgery I had as a baby messed with all of that stuff. So I can’t dance for very long without needing a rest, okay?”

“Sure, that’s fine. How much can you do?”

Dan really didn’t want to come across like a child who needed mollycoddling or a huge burden to the group, so he kept his answer vague. “Like, I can play DDR fine, but, y’know. I can’t just dance all day or anything like that.”

“Okay,” Changmin said with a nod. “We can work with that. Whenever you need a rest, let me know.”

“Okay,” Dan replied, heading back over to the group.

“Alright then, guys,” Changmin said, clapping his hands together once. “Let’s start with the first basic move you’ll be doing.” He pressed play on an old CD player sitting on a plastic chair near the front of the room, his back turned to the boys while he did the first few steps in a mirror. It wasn’t a complex step, but he moved in a flurry, causing Dan’s eyes to flutter around as he tried to keep up.

After Changmin had gone through the first two lines of the first verse, he paused the music and turned towards the group. “Any questions so far?”

Chris shyly put his hand up in the air. “Yeah, um… what?”

 

***

 

Changmin proceeded to slowly show them the first few steps, having them repeat his movements in half time first and then full speed. Each time they took it from the top, he’d add another few bars.

After about thirty minutes of this, however, Dan was leaning over, hands on his knees, coughing.

“You alright?” Changmin asked.

Dan shook his head, unable to answer verbally.

“You’ll be fine. Come on, you can do it!” Changmin cheered him on.

“Um… I don’t think he…” PJ muttered, too nervous to commit to saying Dan was  _ clearly _ not okay, but reasonably certain something wasn’t right.

“No, I’m okay,” Dan said, not wanting to let the group down.

“You sure, mate?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, I just need some water. I’ll be fine. Give me a minute.”

Dan got himself some water and the boys took a five minute breather. Then, it was right back into things again. It wasn’t long before Dan was coughing loudly.

“You’re not okay,” Chris said. “Changmin, we need a longer break, he can’t handle this.”

“No, I’m… I’m fi… I’m…”

Dan collapsed onto the ground. Chris ran over to him and crouched down.

“Shit, shit shit shit… Dan?” he called, lightly slapping Dan’s cheeks to get him to come to. “PJ, go get some water. I’m gonna try to cool him off. He’s heated himself up pretty bad.”

PJ nodded and ran to the water fountain with his gym towel. He dashed back in -- nearly slipping on the water dripping onto the floor -- and handed the soaking wet towel to Chris.

As soon as Dan felt the cool drops of water on his forehead, his eyes squeezed more tightly shut before he started coughing, his eyes sleepily fluttering open. He closed them back again to block out the harsh light above him, but he was awake enough to mumble “What happened?”

“It would seem our choreographer wasn’t exactly clear on your little health issue,” Chris said grumpily.

 

***

 

“How long was he dancing for before he passed out?” Phil’s annoyed voice came through the speaker on Changmin’s iPhone.

“About 45 minutes,” Changmin replied.

“45 minutes?!” Phil said, then muttered under his breath “That’s way too long, oh my god...” and then called “Dan, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Dan said emotionlessly.

“Sorry,” Changmin said honestly. “He said he could play DDR. We were taking things at such a slow pace, I didn’t realize it was going to be that hard on him. If I’m being honest, boss, I don’t think he should dance at all.”

Dan looked up at Changmin pitifully, then stared in the general direction of the phone.

“It’s a dance song though,” Phil said, his tone frustrated and upset. “He  _ needs  _ to dance. We just need to take it easy, that’s all.”

Dan felt like he was going to cry. He admonished himself silently for not yet being accustomed to letting people down.

“The thing is,” Changmin said, “a 5 minute song is a day or two of shooting. If he can’t do 45 minutes to learn the dance, going slowly, he can’t do a whole day of intensive dancing in front of a camera.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Phil said hesitantly.

Everyone in the room looked at each other, silently asking if Phil was serious.

“Okay…” Changmin reluctantly said, not at all convinced Phil had any sort of plan B in place.

“But what about the lighting?” PJ chimed in. “I mean, when we’re filming a video, there’ll be lights on him. Those get really hot. That’s not going to help.”

“As long as there’s enough ventilation I’ll be fine,” Dan’s cracking voice said. “A spacious set would be enough to--”

“No, Dan,” Phil sighed. “Changmin and PJ are right.”

“So what’s the plan then?” Chris asked.

Phil thought for a moment before answering. “Dan, Chris, PJ, you three head home. I’m gonna chat with Changmin and see what he thinks we should do.”

 

***

 

Two days later, after Dan took a day to rest at home (being lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of his mother and grandmother arguing about whether or not this career was good for him), the group met up with Phil at You Know Max.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Dan.”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re the dark mysterious one, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“You’re not going to dance beyond some very simple hand motions that repeat during the chorus.”

“Okay.”

“You’re also going to be wearing a black hoodie and have dark makeup around your eyes. You’re going to be this shadowy figure that sort of hovers around the other two, like you’re a threat to them.”

“Like I’m the end-of-the-world situation in the song personified.”

Phil pointed at Dan excitedly. “Exactly.”

“Okay. But, wait… isn’t a hoodie going to be too warm?”

Phil made a thinking face for a moment, apparently not having thought about it.

“Good point. I’ll work with a costume designer I know who can make you a hoodie out of lighter fabric.”

“And Chris and I are going to do the dance as originally choreographed?” PJ asked.

“Yes. There are going to be some modifications to your exact steps, but mostly it’ll be the same.”

“That seems like it could work,” Chris said.

 

***

 

The choreography itself did indeed work. However, it was the only aspect of shooting the video that went entirely smoothly.

The first issue was the set scheduling conflict. When they arrived at the set for day one, another crew was already in place. As it turned out, Phil hadn’t gone through the set’s online booking system properly. So they had to postpone shooting until the set was available again two weeks later, and that was a miracle that only occurred because someone else had cancelled.

By then it was nearing Christmas and the weather was freezing, so Dan’s light hoodie was no longer comfortable to wear to and from the set. Phil, in a panic, replaced it with a thicker hoodie, and even with his simple dance motions Dan nearly passed out again.

The director of photography kept getting the framing wrong, too, not taking the video’s concept into account enough for Phil’s taste. Phil, watching on the monitors behind the camera, kept yelling “cut” and angering the video’s actual director.

By about the 6th hour, Dan was hilariously torn between finding Phil’s apparent idiocy ridiculously adorable and incredibly annoying.

But then, Phil would check on him.

“How are you holding up, Dan?” Phil would call from time to time between shots.

Dan would hold up an “OK” sign with his fingers, opting to rest his breath and voice rather than call out that he was fine.

And just like that, Dan was back to finding Phil incredibly sweet and lovable despite everything else. _ Of course he’s making mistakes, _ Dan would think.  _ He’s new to this. He’ll get it all figured out. He believes in me, and I believe in him. _

At the end of shooting day one, Dan’s grandmother came to pick him up, and he flopped into bed without getting undressed, falling asleep immediately.

 

***

 

Dan woke to itchy eyes and dark gray marks on his pillow. He also had about 30 messages from Phil asking where he was.

He jumped out of bed in a panic, wondering how badly he’d slept in. His phone said it was 9:30 AM.

_ But today’s call time was noon, _ Dan thought.

He rushed to throw on some black jeans and a leather jacket on top of the t-shirt he’d come home in and then hurried to the set regardless, just in case he’d missed an e-mail or text with the call time change. He figured the makeup artist and hair stylist Phil had hired would take care of the mess that was everything from his neck up. However, when he arrived, Phil was standing there waiting for him, and looking rather sheepish.

“I uh… I thought it was a 9 AM call time today,” Phil said, looking guilty.

Dan folded his arms. “Looks like you owe me breakfast, then.”

“I can definitely oblige,” Phil replied.

 

***

 

The waitress at the small diner down the street from the set kept staring at Dan.

“Does my makeup from yesterday look that awful?” Dan asked. He watched absentmindedly as Phil poured half and half into his coffee, stirring it until the white of the cream mixed with the coffee to make a pleasant beige color.

“Not at all actually,” Phil said just before taking a sip.

“I probably look like I’ve been punched in the face,” Dan grumbled, leaning back lazily in his booth seat.

“You really don’t,” Phil said. “You look… well you look like a rock star, actually.”

Dan shook his head and smiled. “I’m grateful you’re trying to make me feel better, but I’m wearing thick eyeshadow that I slept in. You don’t need to tell me I look okay, I’m a zombie raccoon right now, I’m sure of it.”

“I’m not just saying it to make you feel better. You look… I mean... “ Phil just sort of gestured toward Dan with his hands. “The straight hair nearly covering your eye, the makeup, the leather jacket, I mean… you look… kinda hot.” Phil avoided eye contact. Dan blushed.

The waitress wrote her phone number on the receipt at the end of their meal.

“Told you,” Phil said.

 

***

 

Day two of the shoot went off without too many hitches beyond Dan needing a longer than average break about halfway through. The dancing hadn’t been too intensive, but Dan had to move around Chris and PJ a bit more intensely for one scene. Luckily there were plenty of shoulders-up shots of Chris and PJ singing that they could take care of while Dan took his break.

 

***

 

Editing the video had to be delayed until after the New Year. The upload happened on January 21st, a full three months after the song’s release. By then, momentum from this song had faded almost entirely, and the boys needed to get started on new material.

Given how physically taxing the video shoot process had been for Dan, he was more than a little angry at Phil, feeling like the whole thing had been for nothing. So when his phone buzzed, he looked at it slightly reluctantly.

**Phil Lester:** Dan, did you see the view count on the video?  
 **Daniel Howell:** nope don’t really care tbh  
 **Phil Lester:** You should care.  
 **Phil Lester:** You should also care about the comments.  
 **Daniel Howell:** ???

Dan walked over to his PC and wiggled the mouse to wake it up. He opened up a browser window and headed to YouTube, searching for “HKL - Party It Up.”

The first thing he noticed was the thumbnail, which happened to be a close-up of his face next to PJs. He saw the number of views and blinked. “After two days…?” he muttered. Was this because people recognized him?

He got his answer after he clicked and scrolled down to the comments, like Phil said he should.

“IS THAT DANIEL HOWELL?!!?”  
“omg daniel is back omg omg omg”  
“Wait wtf daniel howell can sing now?? The dafuq did i miss lol”  
“Thank god daniel howell can’t dance, he’d be too perfect otherwise”  
“omg I love Daniel but WHO IS THE GREEN EYED GUY”  
“This song is pretty freaking killer, who are these guys??”  
“DANIEL. HOWELL. IS IN THIS GROUP.”  
“Clicked on the vid cuz i saw dan howell in the thumbnail - holy shit is he back in the game again??”  
“Daniel howell is an autotuned poser who the fuck cares”  
“I thought “omg is that daniel howell in the thumbnail” and I watch the video and OMG I THINK IT IS I THINK THAT’S HIM fhdsjkdfhjadksghfdsjak;ldf”

Dan’s phone started ringing and he stopped reading comments to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Are you seeing this, Dan?!” Phil sounded so excited, Dan couldn’t help but smile a little.

“I am. I guess they remember me then?”

“You’ve only been away from entertainment for like a year and a half, you realize.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.”

“You do still have fans! I saw that when I was looking into your previous work right after we met.”

“Were you stalking my Wikipedia page?”

“IMDB, actually. I’m a professional, you know.”

Dan snickered. “Anyway, yeah, the view numbers are pretty good. Some of the comments are a bit mean though.”

“What are you talking about? Everyone’s so happy to see you, and the song is getting good feedback too.”

“Yeah but this one comment said i was autotuned, which, I mean… we _are_ to some degree, I mean…”

“Literally everyone is autotuned ‘to some degree’ these days, Dan. You don’t notice it when it’s done properly. Studio time is expensive, it’s hard to retake every single note of every single song. Autotune is just like photo retouching. It’s standard industry practice. Don’t take it personally, okay?”

“Okay. But also someone commented that they thought PJ was better looking than me.”

“PJ is meant to be the good looking one, remember? But you’re gorgeous, Dan. Remember that waitress before day two of the video shoot?”

“Yeah…”

On his end, Phil was frowning. Apparently, the negative comments had stuck out to Dan from among the veritable ocean of positive, excited feedback about the song, the group, and his presence in the video.

“Dan?”

“Hm?”

“You’re awesome.”

“I guess.”

“No, really. You are. And I’m going to keep saying it until you believe me. You’re awesome. You’re awesome, you’re awesome, you’re so awesome, Dan.”

Dan couldn’t help the tiny chuckle that escaped him.

Phil continued. “You’re really awesome. I mean just crazy awesome. And have I mentioned lately that you’re awesome?”

Dan laughed out loud this time. “Stop that, you… spoon.”

“I’m a spoon? Well… you’re awesome.”

Dan looked down and smiled. “Thanks,” he said.

“Anytime. If you ever need a reminder, just call me and I'll talk some sense into you, okay?”

“I will. Thanks, Phil.”

“No problem.”

“No, I mean… Thanks for believing in me. And making me believe in myself. This whole video thing, I mean… I feel like I’ve let everyone down with the dancing stuff, and…”

“ _You’ve_ let everyone down? Are you insane? I'm supposed to be the one producing you guys and I can’t even book a set properly! When we were finally _on_ set I overstepped behind the camera, taking control when I shouldn’t have. I lost track of the call times. And on top of it all, I should have had a video ready before the single even went on sale if I’m honest. I made mistake after mistake and yet the video is doing great and the single has sold well. And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because of you, Dan.”

Dan wanted to deny it, but logically he knew Phil wasn’t wrong about that. He wanted to say that he wasn’t that talented, that his fans were just wrong about him and eventually they’d realize he was a hack. He wanted to say that the group’s success was all because of Phil. But he knew Phil would deny all that if he did. So he held his tongue.

“Honestly, Dan, I know you’re sitting there thinking that can’t be true. At this point, I know you well enough to know how much you doubt yourself. But there is no way this group would be doing so well on its first single without you being part of it. So thank you. Thank you for signing that contract.”

“I wish I believed in myself more.”

“I do too! But… wait, you know what? Have you seen the anime Gurren-Lagann?”

“Yeah?”

“Listen, don’t believe in yourself, believe in me! Believe in the Phil who believes in you!”

Dan laughed. “You’re a massive dork.”

“Who’s the bigger dork, the dork who makes an anime reference, or the dork who understands it?”

“Touché.”

“Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good. I’ve got to get going, unfortunately. My brother needs help setting up a store display. Do you, uh… do you want to come by tonight and work on some lyrics for the next single?”

Dan smiled brightly. “Sure.”

“Alright. We’re closing up around 8 tonight, so right after that?”

“Yup, 8 o’clock. Sounds good.”

“See you then.”

“Bye, Phil.”

“Bye, Dan.”

Dan hung up the phone and sighed happily. He fell backward onto his bed and squeezed his pillow. He was excited about seeing Phil tonight. Phil, who believed in him and knew just what to say to make him feel better. Phil, with those eyes and that dorkiness and that slightly adorable ineptitude and that voice. That oddly sexy voice.

Dan hopped up and peeked out his bedroom door.

“Nana!” he called.

“Yes, angel?”

“Can you take me over to Lester Music tonight at 8 o’clock?”

“Of course!”

“Thank you!”

Dan closed his bedroom door again and sat on his bed excitedly. He got out his notebook and started jotting down ideas.

 

“Wait a bit longer for me to grow up some more.   
I want to touch you, taste you, get to know all about you. More than anything.  
Inside me it feels like the bitter espresso is making room for the sweet milk you’re pouring in  
Sorry for my temperature changes.  
I can’t keep my balance if I’m just bitter all the time.”

 

Dan chuckled at the coffee metaphor. The imagery was innocently sexual, which amused him already, but on top of that it was just so damn true. Phil was cutting through his darkness like no one else ever really had.

He smiled.

This was going to be a good song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "believe in you" by Do As Infinity.
> 
> Dan's lyric notes are paraphrased from "Cappuccino" originally performed by Rie Tomosaka, written (and recorded later) by Sheena Ringo.
> 
> Changmin is played by "Max" Changmin from K-Pop group TVXQ! who I actually kind of like as a duo but I really miss when it was a five-member group. Like, so much, you guys. So much.


	9. Cappuccino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil write a song about together. It's not about coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK! Woohoo! Now that the Phandom Games are over (TEAM A FOR LIFE - we came in 2nd :D), I'm back to focusing on writing this! I have been DYING to get this chapter done and honestly I might be posting it a bit prematurely, forgive any weird mistakes or awkward sentence structure, I just couldn't leave it unposted a moment longer.
> 
> Enjoy the flirting, pining, questions answered, questions asked, character development, and lyrics!

“Are you sure you want it to be so…” Phil trailed off, making ambiguous hand gestures.

“So… what?” Dan asked with a childlike grin. He was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, notebook sitting on his left leg. Phil had declined Dan’s offer to join him on the floor and instead opted to sit in one of the chairs across from his desk.

“So… suggestive?”

Dan’s mouth exploded with a quick, breathy laugh. “What do you mean ‘suggestive’? I have no idea what you might find suggestive about this perfectly innocent line!”

“I mean, are you not seeing that? White milk…?”

“What? I don’t get it. What is the milk reminding you of exactly, Phil?”

“Okay maybe you’re not visualizing the same thing I am.”

“Apparently not!” Dan tilted his head, playing dumb. He was deliberately teasing because he found Phil’s inability to say what he was thinking unbearably cute. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”  _ Go on, Phil. Say it sounds like I’m talking about cum. Go ooonn. _

Phil started to speak, then exhaled. He closed his eyes, an embarrassed smile on his face. “It sounds like… it sounds like… you’re… talking about… aguycumminginyouoronyouorsomething.”

“I’m sorry, Phil?” Dan said, leaning his ear in Phil’s direction. “Can you speak up? You were mumbling.”

“It sounds like you’re talking about a guy cumming.” Phil exhaled and leaned back in his chair, defeated.

“Hah!” Dan called out triumphantly. “I got you to say a sex word.”

Phil shrugged. “What do you win, a fiver or something?”

“No, just the benefit of my own amusement.”

“I  _ can _ say sex words, you know,” Phil said, his arms folded and trying to sound confident. There was no anger or frustration on his face or in his tone; it looked like Phil found this as funny as Dan did.

“I bet you can’t!” Dan challenged him. “I mean you just called them ‘sex words,’ Phil. What are you, an 18 year old?”

“Go on, then, tell me to say a word and I’ll say it.”

“Are we at a sleepover party? Shall I braid your hair too?”

“Just give me a word, Howell.”

“‘Fuck.’ I bet you can’t even say ‘fuck.’”

Phil pressed his lips together in a line and breathed in through his nose.

Dan raised his eyebrows, waiting for Phil to speak.

Phil held his breath for a moment. He then finally exhaled and said “Maybe we’ll work up to that one.”

“Oh you coward,” Dan said with a smirk. “I knew you couldn’t do it.”

Phil laughed and shook his head. “You’re a mischievous one, aren’t you?”

“Eh,” Dan said with a shrug. “Not really. Boringly well behaved these days, actually. Not that interested in causing trouble anymore.”  _ It just took one too many scheduled parent conferences about me being a “low-level disruptor” -- that my mum blew off every time -- for me to stop trying to get attention by being mischievous. _ Feeling ignored by his mother as a child wasn’t really the kind of wound he wanted to pick at in Phil’s presence, so Dan didn’t say anything about it. “I have to be relaxed around someone to get like this. You should be honored.”

“You’re relaxed around me?" Phil fidgeted. "I’m your boss. Your livelihood is in my hands, you know.”

Dan’s face dropped at the reminder. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m quite aware of that.” He averted his eyes in search of how to explain why Phil was such a calming force for him, such a relaxing presence in his life, but doing so involved talking about things that he really didn’t want to talk about with Phil. Not yet, anyway. “You’re different, is all.”

“Am I?” Phil asked. His voice had softened slightly, and Dan couldn’t tell if he was just imagining things but his tone sounded almost...  _ romantic _ somehow.

Dan nodded, not sure what else to say. He did feel his face heat up a bit though, and he hoped Phil wasn’t noticing the red patch of blush that was no doubt appearing near his jawline right now, just as it usually did under these sorts of circumstances. Dan let himself imagine Phil telling him he was beautiful, and wanted, and talented, and kind with that tone of voice. Now that the sound of it was in his brain, he could access it and make it say all kinds of sweet nothings if he so desired. He just sounded so kind and loving and...

_ Why am I reading so much into his voice? _ Dan thought.  _ It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe he wasn’t even trying to sound like that on purpose. _

“You know,” Phil suddenly said, sounding relaxed and confident and back at his normal volume, “I bet when you’re not so high-strung you’re capable of being pretty naughty.”

Dan was slightly startled by his choice of wording. He raised his eyebrows and chuckled nervously. “Uh… what… what do you mean by that?”

Phil seemed to be genuinely surprised by Dan’s flustered reaction. “I just meant like, if you wanted to plot some elaborate April Fool’s prank or something, you’d probably come up with something pretty legendary.”

“Oh.”

“Why? What did you think I meant?” Phil asked, his face masked with confusion and innocence.

“Oh, well, y’know. You’d just got done talking about how this lyric sounds like a reference to sex, I figured that was where your brain was… uh… was going.”

“Uh-huh,” Phil said.

Dan was getting that “too much gravity” feeling again, but because it was  _ Phil _ , he also oddly felt like he was somehow floating. Like an accidental astronaut bumping painfully into the walls in a space station. Time seemed to slow, but because he was navigating that near-frozen moment in time so clumsily, he couldn’t tell if it was in a fun way or not. He decided not. There was nothing about this situation that wasn’t awkward. Both of them were apparently reading too much into nearly everything the other person said… or were they? Neither could tell if the other person was overthinking things just as much as they were, or if the other person was just seeing them as a confusing weirdo.

Dan cleared his throat, figuring if he got back to work, if he got time moving forward again, he wouldn’t keep bumping his head. “So um, this line, I’m not sure if it works. Like, ‘I can feel a change inside of me,’ it sounds like there’s a syllable missing.”

“Well, technically yes, the demo has another note there. But you’re trying to adhere too closely to the demo again. You can play with it if you need to. It doesn’t have to scan perfectly, you just mess with how you pronounce it. So like, you could hold the ‘nge’ sound at the end of ‘change’ for two notes, yeah? Cuz it’s an ‘n’ sound there, you can do that. Try it.”

Dan sang a bit. “I can feel a cha-nge inside of me…” He raised his eyebrows. “Actually, yeah, that feels pretty natural.”

“I am wondering about this one here,” Phil said, pointing at the scribbles on the notebook paper in front of Dan. “The line that goes ‘There’s a smirk on your face as you tell me that you told me so.’”

“Yeah?”

“The accents on the last few words just sound all wrong, you know? Like ‘you’ and ‘so’ sound like they’re accented when ‘told’ should be.”

“Hmm,” Dan said, scrunching up his eyebrows while he thought of different phrasings and imagined how they’d sound against the demo. “What about ‘as you tell me I told you so-o’?” he sang, holding the “o” in “so” for an extra note at the end.

“That sounds perfect,” Phil said with a smile. “I’m curious, who told you what?”

“Hm?” Dan felt his face redden, suddenly certain that Phil knew this song was in reference to him. Phil’s face, however, betrayed nothing.

“The lyric,” Phil said innocently. “There’s not really anything making it clear what the other person told you, and why they’re now rubbing it in your face.” Phil snickered a bit, looking to Dan for answers.

Dan, at a loss of what to say, shrugged. “I guess… it’s art, so it’s open for interpretation?” He paused a second, and figured he’d give Phil something. “Whatever the listener wanted someone to tell them, I guess. Something the listener didn’t believe. Something good about themselves that they constantly deny when asked.”

“Do you mean like,” Phil asked, “that you’re beautiful? Er, um, that… that they’re beautiful, I mean? Of course, like, probably you too, because you’re the one writing the song, and it’s from your point of view and everything. So. Yeah, like… yeah?”

Dan smiled, still blushing. “Is that what you wish someone would tell you, Lester?”

“What?”

“That you’re beautiful?”

Phil’s face dropped to a sad smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah I really would.”

Dan suddenly felt like an intrusive pest for asking. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to, y’know… hit a nerve or something.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, it’s just… You know what? Nothing.” Phil hopped up. “Do you want some tea? I could use some tea.”

Dan looked at the lyric sheet in front of him.  _ Actually, I was thinking coffee, _ he thought.

 

***

 

Starbucks was still open, so they went. As they walked down the street in the cool night air, Dan’s hands were warmed by his drink and his heart warmed by the company. He’d given himself very little time to truly think about his silly schoolboy crush on his boss, which meant he had neither talked himself out of it nor let himself swim in it. This time out with Phil felt like a date and regardless of whether or not that’s what it truly was, he was letting himself enjoy it.

“I was thinking,” Dan said. “Maybe you’re not wrong about that line. The ‘milk’ line, I mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe, like… I’ll redo the line so I say ‘half-and-half’ instead. Because it’s not like ‘cream’ is any better than ‘milk’ really, is it?” Dan laughed, and Phil chuckled in response.

“No, that’s even worse!”

Dan rode the wave of his giggles for a second.

“I don’t know about you,” Dan said, “but I’m ready for these cold temperatures to fuck off.”  _ I did not seriously just talk about the weather. Jesus Christ, I’m hopeless. _

Phil gave a little laugh and nodded. “Oh yes. Next time we go out for Starbucks, let’s do it when the sun’s still out.”

“Agreed.”

As they walked, they passed by a line of trees that were still hanging onto a few dead leaves just as a gust of wind blew half of them off the branches, their thin tether to the tree finally severed permanently. Dan looked down and squinted as he hugged himself, wrapping his too-light denim jacket tightly around his torso, trying in vain to block the cold wind. Phil, considerably warmer in his rather nice coat, instinctively put an arm around Dan and held him close.

“Why did you bring such a light jacket with you?” Phil said.

Trying not to hear the massive helping of fondness Phil served alongside those words, Dan shrugged, still looking at the ground and squinting.

He didn’t look back up to make eye contact with Phil until the wind had died down, reducing itself back to the light breeze it had been before. When he did look into Phil’s eyes, dead leaves were fluttering down to the ground all around him, and Dan thought he looked like the most popular, most beautiful boy in school in an anime or something. So he couldn’t help that the corners of his lips lifted into the most delicate smile.

“You’re beautiful,” he said before he could stop himself.

Phil looked momentarily surprised and his eyebrows lifted slightly. “I… hm?”

Dan noticed that Phil didn’t seem especially excited to hear it. Perhaps Dan had even offended him somehow. He suddenly felt very guarded. “Oh, it’s just that, um… earlier. You said you wished someone would tell you that.”

Phil breathed in and seemed to hold it.

“Someone,” he finally said. “Yeah. But…” He frowned.

Dan began to frown also as an unfortunate realization dawned on him. “But… not me.”

Phil looked Dan in the eyes and shook his head.

“Oh,” Dan responded. He wanted to ask if it was someone specific he wanted to hear it from. But what if his answer to that was yes? Or, perhaps worse, what if his answer was no? Then Dan would have to wonder if he simply wanted to hear it from  _ literally anyone else _ , and Dan was simply the least attractive person in the world to him. Or maybe he wanted to hear it from a woman. Regardless, Phil did not want to hear it from Dan. And Dan couldn’t think of an explanation that he’d be okay hearing. So he left it alone.

But why was Phil still looking at him like that? His eyes were going back and forth between Dan’s, and they stood so close to one another. Time felt like it was frozen. In spite of Phil’s words, everything still felt the way it often does when two people who adore each other can’t bear to be more than a few inches apart. Dan’s stomach twisted from a mix of attraction and confusion.

What was going on? What was this? What were they?

The spell was broken when Phil turned to face forward again, and took a step in the general direction of the music store. Dan followed.

En route back to the shop, they passed a bar which, earlier in the evening, had had a narrow line of people leaning against its outside wall, waiting for the doors to open for some late night show. This time, however, the bar was swarming with a massive crowd of people extending out into the road. At a glance, Dan and Phil determined it’d be far too hazardous to walk out into traffic to navigate around the mass of concertgoers.

“Oh god,” Phil sighed. “I’m far too clumsy for a crowd this size. I’m going to step on someone’s feet for sure!”

Dan, normally just as anxious, felt a surge of emotion build up inside him. It was hard to pinpoint exactly, but it was like a compulsion to be… worthy. He would later look back at this moment as both incredibly embarrassing due to his desire to impress Phil, but also a turning point in his life. On this night, outside that bar, Daniel Howell made the incredibly juvenile decision to become a better version of himself simply to try and be enough for his crush.

“Here, take my hand,” Dan said. Phil did so, and Dan stood up as straight as he could, all six feet of him suddenly plowing through the crowd of drunken party animals. Phil was laughing, half from nervousness and half from amusement, as Dan effortlessly weaved through the mass of people, none of whom seemed to have any idea Dan and Phil were even there.

They cleared the crowd and looked at one another, laughing when they finally reached an empty spot on the pavement to take a few breaths.

“I thought that one guy with the tattoos was going to stomp on me!” Phil said.

“Which guy with the tattoos, Phil? They all had tattoos!” Dan laughed.

After a moment, Phil made a thoughtful face. “Hey, d’you know what I just realized?”

“What?”

“You’re gonna be all famous pretty soon,” Phil said. “You won’t be able to do that kind of thing anymore. The crowds are gonna notice you. No, scratch that -- the crowds will be  _ for _ you.”

Dan took a moment to let himself internalize that idea. It was too difficult, though. The idea of crowds gathering for him was so alien, so ridiculous, that he couldn’t even imagine it. So he just laughed a little, shaking his head.

“No, I’m serious,” Phil said. “And it won’t be outside a bar where they’ll be waiting for you. It’ll be outside arenas.”

Dan’s face relaxed into one that was starting to accept the possibility, but still shocked anyone would ever say that about him.

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“When that happens… will you still be my friend?”

“Your friend?”

“I know, I know, you’re… my boss, or whatever. Technically. But you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a  _ real, proper _ friend since Chris left Moonlight. And I always lose my friends. They leave, or they decide they hate me, or they die, and… Sometimes I think I’m cursed, you know? And here you are, believing in me and making me feel like I’m worth something, so I can’t help but be, just… y’know… waiting for it to end. And the thing is, logically, it’s probably going to. Eventually we’re going to be busy and not see each other as much, and I  _ know _ that. You’ll have other artists to work with, I’ll have tours and television appearances and radio shows to do, and you won’t be around for all of them. So I worry that we’ll get distant, and this sounds  _ so stupid _ because we’ve known each other less than a year, but you’ve become so important to me, and I just...”

“Ssh, Dan, it’s okay.”

Apparently Dan had started crying part way through his rambling, because Phil was putting a hand on Dan’s cheek and using his thumb to wipe a tear away. Dan gazed at Phil, taking in the feeling of his hand on his face, the warmth of it underneath the slightly clammy palm cooled by the air around them. Just as Dan was closing his eyes, about to lean his head into it slightly, Phil quickly pulled his hand away. Dan opened his eyes again, his cheek suddenly feeling much cooler.

“We uh… we should get back,” Phil said nervously. “It’s only getting colder.”

Noticing that Phil didn’t answer his question, Dan followed him as he hurried to Lester Music. They didn’t say anything else on the way back.

But as soon as they stepped into Phil’s office, they were back to work again. As though they’d traveled from one reality to another. Outside this office, they were like conflicted lovers. Inside this office, they were professional. Flirty, perhaps, but harmlessly so. Mostly, they were merely doing their jobs as makers of pop music. Nothing more.

 

***

 

They finished the lyrics several days later after multiple sessions. At the end of it all, Dan gave the song what he childishly thought was a very clever title: “Cappuccino.” His line of thinking was that, since Phil wasn’t drinking cappuccino any of the times they had coffee together, surely the title would throw him off the scent, keeping Dan’s crush hidden.

Dan was about to write Phil's name as co-writer, but Phil put his hand over top of Dan's and shook his head.

"This one's yours," he said.

"But... but you helped with the word choice..."

"All I did was ask you questions. You wrote all of this. Take the credit. It's due you, not me."

"But I owe you so much."

Phil shook his head. "This words are yours, Dan."

Reluctantly, Dan scribbled out the "Phi" he'd written down.

Not long afterwards, once Dan had left, Phil read the finished lyrics to himself with the song’s demo playing so he could follow along, knowing he should imagine three voices singing it but only being able to imagine one. He couldn’t help but smile as the song played in his mind. 

He knew  _ exactly _ what this was.

“Can you wait a while, just a little while, until I grow up?” he imagined Dan's voice singing. “Do you see me trying to sweep you off your feet? Feel free to be sweet to me in the meantime.”

Phil felt himself nod his head, or at least try to. Something was holding him back from doing what Dan asked.

He wanted to shower Dan with affection so badly, and relished knowing that Dan wanted the same. But Phil was Dan’s boss. If Phil and Dan had a romantic relationship, that would be perfect… until and unless this company grew. The hypothetical board of directors Phil hoped the company would one day have would no doubt throw around terms like “impropriety” and “conflict of interest” and, sadly, the F word. Phil would be fired, Dan would be dragged through the mud as someone who screwed his way to success. 

He couldn’t bring himself to put Dan in that situation.

In Phil’s eyes, Dan was this beautiful, perfect boy who deserved better than what life had given him so far. He deserved success and happiness. He didn’t deserve drama or company politics. He didn’t deserve a romance that was forced to be cut short.

_ He deserves better than me,  _ Phil thought.

 

***

 

Cappuccino  
Lyrics: Dan Howell, ~~Phi~~

Can you wait a while, just a little while, until I grow up?  
Do you see me trying to sweep you off your feet?  
Feel free to be sweet to me in the meantime.

“The next time I see you, it’ll be warmer out”  
What am I doing saying something so plain and ordinary?  
...my bitter black coffee surrenders to your half-and-half.

More than anything, I wanna know everything about you  
How you feel and smell and taste, what you think of me,  
And if we’re standing on even ground  
I can feel a change inside of me, you’re cooling me down  
Sorry if you can’t keep up, but if it’s too much  
You can go, but baby just tell me so.

I can smell your coffee sitting in between us  
There’s a smirk on your face as you tell me ‘I told you so’  
...if I’m only bitterness, how can I balance this?

In the afternoon, flower petals falling around our heads  
We slipped through the crowd unseen, but I wonder if  
we’ll always be able to do this?  
If I live my life and you live your life, then will you forget  
Whose hand it was holding yours, pulling you along?  
I worry it’ll be a blurred memory.

Maybe this is unofficial, this thing we have right now  
And you never promised a thing,  
But I’ve just realized  
The smell of coffee in a diner from that day with you  
Has taken over my heart

Look me in the eye, and you’re gonna see who I really am  
More than anybody else, you understand  
I say what I say ‘cause I’m unsure

More than anything, I wanna know everything about you  
How you feel and smell and taste, what you think of me,  
And if we’re standing on even ground  
I can feel a change inside of me, you’re cooling me down  
Sorry if you can’t keep up, but if it’s too much  
You can go, but baby just tell me so.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Cappuccino" is a pop song written by Sheena Ringo (the real-life rock star with the angel scars) for pop singer Rie Tomosaka in 1999 (when Ringo herself was only 21). The lyrics featured here are VERY close to the original Japanese, with a few changes made to emphasize and de-emphasize certain things and make the words scan as closely as possible, as though Ringo's "Cappuccino" were the demo they were writing lyrics to go with. (The lyrics not rhyming is actually important to the story, not just something I did out of laziness. Although I was glad my Dan doesn't like writing rhyming lyrics, because it definitely removed a layer of difficulty from the whole exercise.)
> 
> Rie's version can be heard here (be warned though, the video is cringey levels of shameless lol) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=reVFk9QoMtQ
> 
> Ringo has performed the song herself in the years since. Here's her performing it live: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hj8K-w9Pdsk
> 
> And here's the more rock-leaning album version of it that she recorded in 2014, which I've been listening to repeatedly while writing this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YfqVapPkjqs


	10. Interview: Ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan tells Shane about the HKL split and the influence his family had on his music. During a break in the interview, Phil has a chat with Dan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to cut this chapter down, even cut out one big part, and it ended up 300 words longer somehow. I dunno. lol
> 
> This chapter shows you your first look at the relationship Dan & Phil have as of the day of the interview, so... feel free to leave theories in the comments. :)

“Of course, having learned our lesson the first time round,” Dan told Shane, “We didn’t try for a video with dancing. What Phil did instead was…” He trailed off and looked to the side with a slightly bashful smile. “Later on, in retrospect, I realized what he did. I didn’t notice at the time how obvious it was, but… oh god.”

“What?” Shane asked, his eyes sparkling with the excitement of a nosy neighbor about to hear some excellent gossip.

“The ‘coffee shop’ where we filmed the video? That was actually the diner where Phil got me breakfast, and the waitress gave me her number.” He then muttered an additional, slightly guilty-sounding “...which I never called.”

“It was not!” Shane gasped, suddenly not award-winning TV personality Shane Dawson but just Shane, your best friend who you tell all your stories to. This sort of shift never made it into final edits, but it was part of what made him so good at getting answers out of people.

Dan nodded, a fond, nostalgic smile on his face. “It was.”

“And you didn’t realize that this was him saying, ‘yeah, I know what diner your lyrics were talking about’?”

“I really didn’t! I just thought that, y’know, since he knew the diner allowed shoots when they were closed, I figured it was just a convenient location choice. I mean obviously, the whole time we were in there I was thinking about how this diner was that diner, but the fact that Phil obviously knew that didn’t cross my mind.”

“You know what, looking at your face all throughout the video, you have this smirk the whole time.”

“I do? Oh my god. That’s kind of cringe, isn’t it?”

“On the contrary. Your face has this sort of ‘I know something you don’t know’ thing going on. And that’s probably what captured audiences so much, because it was after this that HKL became particularly well-known.”

“Yeah, and that was when the interviews started and the reviews and the social media and… just… everything got real weird real fast.”

“So what happened?”

“Well… the first thing was people asking if HKL was a new name  _ I _ was going by. Like, they weren’t even noticing Chris and PJ for some reason. So for our third video, Phil tried to include them more but social media got super nasty to them.”

“I remember a lot of tweets and YouTube comments complaining that they weren’t focusing on you enough.”

“Yeah, and I felt like shit about it. It did some damage to my friendship with Chris, I’m not gonna lie. Nothing we didn’t completely recover from after awhile, but at the time, like… I didn’t know if I’d be welcome if I said hi or texted him or anything. It was rough.”

“How bad did your anxiety get? I know this was around the time your mental health issues started affecting your work.”

“Honestly, my anxiety… It was probably worse than I realized it was. I just kept saying ‘I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s no big deal, I can handle it’ but I was not handling it in a healthy way at all. I had Phil send me demo after demo after demo, and I would lock myself in my room and just write and write and write endlessly. I figured if I was working, I was at least using my time productively, so who could say anything bad about that? But that was just justifying it. The truth was, I didn’t dare stop because the second my brain wasn’t worrying about ‘what’s the right word for this’ or ‘what phrase would fit best there,’ it was worrying about ‘does everyone I know secretly hate me,’ and ‘are my sunglasses dark enough for me to go out without being recognized’ So I just kept writing.”

“Were paparazzi already following you?”

“No, not yet, but camera phones were a thing. And now that the iPhone had video, too, I was being really cautious.”

“Oh yeah that was still relatively new, huh?”

“Yeah. Like there were older flip phones that had video before that, sure, but suddenly it was in, like, watchable quality where I could be identified accurately. So I was scared to death there’d be some video made public of me like, eating messily or picking my pants out of my butt or something.”

Shane laughed.

“So yeah, I was always on edge all the time. And once we released the album -- which… given my output, did not take long -- it got harder and harder for Phil to be a human filter keeping my promo work to a manageable level. I suddenly had, just… day after day after day doing photo shoots, interviews… And I can’t really blame Phil for it, to be honest. Not completely anyway. It’s partly on me, ‘cause, like… I knew Phil’s label needed the income really badly, you know? I knew he needed the album to do well. He was exhausted, I could tell. I mean he had to wear every hat at the label since it was basically Martyn taking care of finances, Sarah answering the phone and taking care of paperwork and writing press releases, and him doing literally everything else. Anything music- or artist-related was on him. He  _ really _ needed the income to hire more help. We needed a manager that wasn’t him. The label needed A&R that wasn’t him. And I knew that, and I wanted to help. So when he asked if I could do something, like… Even though I knew he was making sure I was, like, mentally able to handle it, and he was legitimately giving me an out, I still felt pressure to say yes. Even if I  _ wasn’t _ mentally able to handle it, I’d say yes.”

“That pattern of not wanting to let people down was a big problem for you."

Dan shrugged, looking sad for his younger self. “I knew what it felt like to  _ be _ let down, you know? I didn’t want Phil to feel that way. Plus, I knew my physical health was an issue already, and that already had me saying ‘no’ to things. I felt like my mental health wasn’t, like… wasn’t real? I guess? Or wasn’t a priority at least.”

Shane nodded.

“So when the album came out, I was not in a good place. We were traveling all over the UK, Phil was doing everything he could to get our names out there, and more and more places were saying that yes, they wanted us to appear. And then… you know. That whole disappearing act thing.” Dan looked down at his fingers and fidgeted with them.

“Yeah, do you mind if I asked what happened?” Shane asked. “You suddenly didn’t show up for the last leg of HKL’s radio and TV interviews.”

“I’d love to tell you it was anything interesting, really,” Dan replied. “That I was abducted by aliens or even that I was poorly or something. But what you said, that’s basically what happened. I just didn’t show up. It was like… my brain’s software froze. I couldn’t get out of bed. I left the tour and just got a hotel room for myself and just holed up there. I didn’t write. I barely ate. I just…  _ was. _ For like a week.”

“At the end of that week, what happened to get you back on track again?”

“Phil called my grandma, apparently. After I’d been gone for a couple of days. She told him that… I just… do that sometimes. Which I do.”

“Do what? Run away?”

“Hide away, really, but yeah basically. I’ll leave home and go for a walk without my phone, or I’ll stay at a friend’s place for a night without talking to anyone, or I’ll just not leave my room for hours or days at a time. Once Phil heard that, he knew what probably happened and he knew I wasn’t dead or anything, so he started looking for me. He called a few hotels in Brighton, since that was the last stop where he’d seen me, to see if I was at any of them. When he found where I was, my grandma came down from where we lived outside London to be, like… emotional support. As much for him as for me, really. Anyway, my iPhone was off, so they called the room phone to make sure I was there. And… I’m not sure what compelled me to actually answer it, but I did. Maybe by then I was ready to stop hiding, I don’t know. But I answered and Nana told me that Phil was worried sick about me, that Chris was worried sick about me, and apparently even PJ was hoping I was alright. And PJ and I weren’t friends then like we are now. In HKL we were colleagues, sure, but I didn’t expect him to give a sh-- Uh, hoot.” Dan gave a tiny smile. “Anyway, Nana told me to hold on, that they’d be up soon. I said ‘ok’, you know, kind of just… a half-assed response, really. Hung up the phone. Waited. Didn’t get up from the bed. Just stared at the ceiling. And then he knocked.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, he’s the one who came to the door. Phil. I took ages to get up, he pounded on the door like a hundred times. And when I opened it, he was there, looking just… panicked. Petrified. And then suddenly he looked so relieved. I’ll never forget the look on his face. It plays out in slow-motion in my memory.” Dan paused to smile sadly. “Nana was fine, you know? She knew me, and she knew sometimes I needed time alone. She also knew I was scared that Phil would be angry at me. So she was standing back in the corridor waiting, and Phil was… He was hugging me before I even realized he was, and I was just stood there, barely registering what was going on.”

“Dan, I have to be honest with you… Phil really does seem to care about you based on this. Not just as an employee, but as a person.”

“I can see that looking back, but Daniel Howell of 2010 definitely couldn’t. I don’t think Daniel has ever realized he was worthy of someone caring like that, so when Phil looked for him and was worried about him, it was just like ‘oh he just wants to protect his investment.’”

“Did you not think Phil cared about you, the person, but like, you, the product he was selling?”

“Exactly. He only cared about Dan Howell, not Daniel James Howell.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I’m sure this is incredibly weird, but… I’ve grown to sort of separate myself into two different entities over time. I’ve had to. Criticism about one side of me would hurt the other side of me too much, you know? I had to separate the work I did from who I am as a person. So I have basically… Daniel James Howell, the person, and that’s me. My family calls me Daniel, close friends call me Daniel if they don’t have some other nickname for me, my government-issued identification paperwork all says Daniel, that’s… that’s the name I think of when I think of myself.  _ Dan _ Howell is… Dan is a persona, really. Dan is the role I play. He’s a product, a personality, a brand, whatever. He’s built around pieces of me, he includes a lot of parts of me, and I’m the chief engineer of that product, but he’s not  _ me _ . He’s cooler than me, he’s more composed, more talented, better looking, more comfortable with himself, more fashionable. He’s everything I wish I was. But he’s nothing more than a character I play. Sometimes I lose myself in him, or feel like I might, but I have friends around to keep me grounded these days. If someone calls me Dan, that’s because they only know me in the context of my career as a musician and an entertainer. So I know if someone criticizes  _ Dan, _ it isn’t about  _ me _ and it can roll off my back much easier.”

“You know, so many things about you make a lot of sense now.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Dan said with a mirthless chuckle.

“What does Phil call you?”

Dan paused. He didn’t like the answer to this question.

“You don’t need to answer that.”

“No, it-- Um. He… he calls me Dan. I uh… I wish he didn’t.”

“Do you worry that he still only sees you as a product?”

Dan didn’t meet Shane’s eye as he nodded. “Actually... can we not include this last line of questioning in the final cut? I don’t really like talking about what he calls me.”

“Sure, we’ll make sure that gets cut out.”

Dan straightened out. “Anyway, we have a certain boy band breakup I bet you’re wondering about.”

“Oh yes, definitely!” Shane said, putting his host face back on. “So my guess is that the negative reactions on social media were the beginning of the end?”

“Yes. Not to mention how well they were doing on TV without me there during my little freakout.”

“I do recall that. The ratings on their interviews without you were really high.”

“Yeah. And Phil saw that too. He wasn’t a complete idiot, you know? When he put them together as a duo, he saw the dynamic they had and he saw that it worked. I was added last minute because he panicked and needed me to get those vocal lessons before he was able to pay for them. That’s all there is to it. I was never meant to be part of the group.”

“That confirms the most prevalent fan theory that was going around at the time.”

“The fact that it was such a common theory really shows how obvious it was that I was stuck in there last minute.”

“How did you feel knowing they were doing so well without you?”

“Actually, I had no idea at the time. I didn’t know until later. I wasn’t watching TV, I wasn’t looking at twitter or anything, so I was out of touch really.”

“So how did you find out about it?”

“Once the album push was more or less done, Phil called us into his office and told us the situation. We all figured the meeting would be about touring or something, which is standard practice when promoting an album but the thought of it scared me to death if I’m honest.”

“It’s hard to imagine a Dan Howell who’s scared of touring these days!”

Dan chuckled in response. “Yeah, my workaholism never really died, did it?” He continued. “But yeah, Phil went down a laundry list of facts we had to face at that point… the group couldn’t dance on stage or in videos with me there. To a certain demographic the group name was synonymous with my face, which was… y’know, incongruent. The duo had a better dynamic without me and audiences were reacting positively to that dynamic. I was a strong brand without them. The only logical conclusion was... I had to be separated from the group, and the other two would continue under a new name without me.”

“Hence Kickthestickz.”

“Yes.”

“Well… I was going to ask about the influence of your family on your music, but you look like you need a break. We’ve been at this for awhile, I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, this has been quite a long day already. What time is it?”

“About 12:45. Break for lunch?

“Yeah, I think lunch would be good.”

 

***

 

Having used the toilet already (not just to use the toilet proper but also to sit in a stall and meditate for about five minutes), Dan stood by the craft services table sipping on a Stella Artois and wishing he had a notebook with him. He jotted down a few lyric ideas in his phone, hoping he’d remember later on that they were there and wishing he had the tactile feeling of pencil on paper to make him feel more grounded in reality.

“In order to keep your dream alive, I had to not be there,” he typed. “And now the fragments of your shattered dream stab my chest.”

“Hey,” Phil said, walking up to him. “You’re doing great up there.”

Dan gave a polite smile. “Thanks. Look… I mean, I know you already said it was fine, but… Are you  _ sure _ you’re okay with me doing this?”

“What, telling your story to Shane?”

“And to like a million other people, yeah. But I mean, it’s not just  _ my _ story.”

“No, it’s not, but it is your side of it. You have every right to tell it.”

Dan made a thoughtful face and folded one arm over his chest, his other arm holding his beer casually. “I’m curious if you’ve learned anything from hearing my side of it.” He took a sip and raised his eyebrows at Phil.

Phil looked away from Dan for a second, slowly nodding. “A few things.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Phil looked at Dan and smirked. “That you knew what that milk lyric sounded like the whole time.”

Dan chuckled. “You honestly didn’t realize I was teasing you?”

“I’m not entirely convinced you really were. You do tend to say things to save face.”

“Hush, you.”

“Anyway. It’s already halfway through the day and you’re only now at the HKL split. Are you gonna want to schedule a second day with Shane to complete the interview?”

“Probably not a bad idea. You’ll probably talk to Hazel before I do, can you pass that along to her?”

Phil sighed. “Yeah, I guess that is her job now.”

“It’s been her job for like five years, Phil. You keep getting on  _ my _ case about taking on too much, but  _ you _ can’t let go of being my manager for some reason.”

Phil shrugged. “Protective instincts I guess.”

Dan barely broke eye contact with Phil as he necked the rest of his beer and threw the bottle into a recycling bin next to the table, where it landed with a loud  _ clank! _ onto a pile of more glass.

Phil shook his head disapprovingly. “Where is Hazel, anyway? Shouldn’t she be here making sure you don’t, y’know… do that?”

“What?” Dan asked.

“You shouldn’t be having a beer.”

“I’m fine, Phil. Have been for ages.”

“That’s not how it works, you know that.”

“That’s how it works for me. I wasn’t drinking because I was addicted to alcohol, I was drinking because I was addicted to forgetting about you. And if cocktails were a delicious fucking way to do that, then so be it.”

“I just don’t want to see you fall into that again.”

“I won’t.” Dan shuffled his feet, feeling guilty. “Look, I know you worry. I just needed one beer to make talking about my dad after the break easier. That’s it. I know he’s going to ask about my dad, and he’s really hard to talk about. You gotta let this one go, okay? Please.”

Phil wanted so badly to somehow tie Dan’s hands behind his back to keep him from drinking ever again. He didn’t like when Dan drank. It made him so nervous these days. But Dan had had  _ maybe _ one beer a week over the last 3 years, and nothing bad had come of it. For someone who’d once had a problem, it was astounding how much the picture of moderation he’d become. So Phil calmed himself and nodded. “Fine,” he said. “But that’s your quota. No more, okay?”

“Of course,” Dan replied with a gentle smile. “I won’t need any more. I mean, I got over you, didn’t I? I’m fine. It’s fine.”

They stood next to each other by the table for a few minutes after that. Dan felt awkward, but he wasn’t sure if Phil did too. Someone on the crew walked by and said something like “hey Dan, you’re doing great” and Dan politely nodded their way in response. Phil checked his e-mail. Dan did some people watching, observing Shane going through his future notes and jotting a few things down. Dan wondered what. Phil started looking at Reddit. Dan hoped Phil would show him a meme or bad joke or something, but he didn’t. 

Dan closed his eyes tightly and breathed. Why wasn’t the alcohol helping him keep his composure right now? Maybe when it came to Phil, he needed more than one beer.

Dan looked at his own phone to check the time, hoping it was almost time to get back to the interview just so he had an excuse to get away. He’d rather talk about his late father than deal with Phil’s silent, heavy presence a moment longer.

“Five minutes,” he said with a hint of a relieved sigh. “I’m gonna have them touch up my makeup a bit, I’m probably getting red from the beer.”

“Not really,” Phil said. “You’ve sweated a bit though. Kind of shiny.”

Dan nodded. “Yeah, I figured.”

As Dan walked away, Phil thought he saw Dan’s hands trembling.

 

***

 

The cameras were once again recording, and Dan was facing Shane again.

“So!” Dan said. “What were you going to ask about next?” He knew the answer to this question, of course, but as usual he wanted to appear unaffected. He wanted to pretend that Shane saying “your family” hadn’t bothered him, that this was just another question, just another topic. He figured pretending to forget the question altogether was a good way to do that.

Shane looked at him like he wasn’t quite buying it, but replied in a friendly way. “I was curious about how your family life has influenced the songs you write about and the styles you write in.”

“Well, I mean, influence-wise, my mum -- and I think my Dad, too, not sure -- listened to dance music mostly. Like my friends’ parents were all into classic rock and 80s progressive stuff, but my family listened to dance music more. Or my parents did, anyway.” Dan started snickering a bit. “My grandma would march in going ‘ugh this robotic, plastic music! Just a disgrace. Where’s the humanity in this?’”

“What did your grandma listen to, then?”

“She preferred jazz mostly. She liked the improvised aspects of it. What she called the ‘humanity’ of it. She liked that it was just straight feeling, just emotion being expressed in real-time, you know?”

“So that’s two very polarized genres really, not much in common between the two of them.”

“Exactly, which may be why my music is so… well, polarizing, for lack of a better word. Even among the people who enjoy it, they’re really split into two camps, the ones who prefer the more polished aspects and the ones who prefer the more expressive and experimental aspects.”

“How do you balance those things?”

“Honestly, I don’t consciously think about it. Putting it into a rock context helps because then it’s, y’know, at its core it’s a rock song, but it has dance or jazz influence on it. Plus I learned different things from each genre. Dance music made me very very picky about, like, mathematically getting the timing right on everything and making sure the bass is always high enough, that sort of thing. Jazz made me very picky about staying honest at all times and not trying to make the human parts of the song sound too artificial. My vocals aren’t all that polished most of the time, acoustic instruments are played with the real instruments and not synthesizers, you know, things like that.”

“Is that why your lyrics so rarely rhyme?”

“Exactly. To me the word choice matters. The need for the lyrics to fit the rhythm and melody makes it so I have to think about my wording a little bit more, but that usually results in choosing the right wording for meaning too, not just the sound of the song. If I sacrificed meaning for rhyming, things wouldn’t come across right. I’d rather people read or hear these song lyrics and get what I’m trying to say, and rhyming gets in the way of that far more often than it helps. At least for me.”

“And one of the things that’s made you so important in the pop music world is how relatable your lyrics are. Even when you were writing primarily for HKL, your songs were about unrequited love, rejection, loneliness, anxiety, I mean… you went far darker than most pop acts go.”

“Yeah, and PJ loved that. He really liked being in a relatable group who sang about more honest things. A few songs I wrote ended up going to the Kickthestickz album because he liked them so much. He would call me and say ‘hey, this one song you wrote, I was really looking forward to recording it, I know you’re not in the group anymore but can we use it?’ And that was actually what finally got us to be real friends. I learned a lot about him from what songs had really stuck with him. We’d end up sharing stories about our lives because of the lyrics I’d written. And… as a solo artist, later on, like… when fans would send me a tweet or leave a comment about a song really resonating with them, that was what ended up meaning the most to me. I liked that there were people out there who could relate to me. It made me feel less alone, really.”

Shane nodded. He looked down at his notes. “So… the last song on the HKL album is ‘Teddy Bear.’”

Dan tensed up.

“And then the first song on your solo debut is ‘A Song for…’”

“Yes.”

“Coincidence, or continuation of the same narrative?”

Dan smiled, once again, trying to appear unaffected. “Getting into fan conspiracy theories, are we? How very  _ you, _ Shane!” He laughed, and encouraged Shane to laugh as well. “Honestly, ah… the fans aren’t wrong. ‘Teddy Bear’ is absolutely about the night my dad left, which, y’know, since we already talked about that, you probably figured that one out. ‘A Song for…’ is a song to my mother about how I had to act as a child-- Er, how I felt I had to act. It wasn’t like a rule that I had to be quiet and feign strength whenever I was around other people, I just felt like I did. My mum always put on a brave face outside the house, and then at home, that was when she would let herself get emotional. And I picked up on that. I felt like I had to do the same thing, y’know, not show the world how I was feeling. So when people would talk to my mum about me as thought I weren’t right there, they’d say stuff like ‘wow, he’s so strong and well-adjusted, so well-behaved for a child from a broken home’ it would make me mad, you know? Like… you don’t know our life, who are you to judge me like that? Even though they were judging me positively, like, that compliment was based on them feeling sorry for me, for us. And I hated that we were looked down on like that. So as a kid I pretended I wasn’t hearing it. I just knew I didn’t want people to feel sorry for me so in school I’d talk too much and I’d say it was no big deal when mum forgot to pick me up. I knew she was working and I knew she was trying, and I didn’t want people to be looking at me like, y’know, that poor kid, his dad left and his mum’s neglectful.” Dan punctuated his rambling with a shrug. “Anyway. I hid behind coolness and talkativeness but on the inside I was a disaster, y’know. But I didn’t want anyone to see it.”

Shane made a face and thought for a moment. “What’s interesting to me is… your songs  _ are _ honest.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So I want to say that you got over the idea that being open and vulnerable is a bad thing. But in interviews -- this one excluded -- you seem to go back to being more guarded.”

“Yes. Umm…. Hm, how best to explain this… Basically… Daniel is writing the songs. Dan is performing them.”

“Aaahh,” Shane said with a slow nod.

“I’m uncomfortable sharing too much, of course, so a lot of the lyrics have fictional elements to them or they get so specific that you can’t really understand them unless you were there. Some people relate anyway, and others put their own interpretation on things… But because my true feelings are sort of encoded to some degree, it’s a safer outlet than interviews where you have to be much more concrete. The things you say in interviews are things that people could use against you later. So I try to avoid that without looking  _ too _ mechanical and closed-off, I guess.”

“So, rewinding a bit… I wanted to go back to your family again. What can you tell me about your father?”

Dan became visibly tense again. He’d been trying so hard to get off this track but Shane wasn’t going to let it go, so he hoped there was still enough alcohol in his system.

“Not much, to be honest,” he hesitantly replied. “I didn’t even remember his name until I learned he’d passed. I still don’t remember what he looked like.”

“What do you remember?”

“I remember him being fun. I remember him being my friend. He was goofy. He’d make my stuffed animals move and talk, which made me laugh. He’d point at the clouds and say they looked like ridiculous things. Like I’d say ‘elephant’ and he’d say ‘nah, that’s more like a turkey playing a trombone’ or something. My memories of him are very blurry at this point but I try to remember them and, y’know, rewrite those memories every chance I get. Especially now.”

“How did you learn that he--”

Dan cut Shane off. “I don’t really want to talk about his passing right now, to be honest. Maybe later.”

Shane nodded. “You got it.” Shane flipped to the next page of his notes. “Back to your career then?”

Dan exhaled. “Yes, that’d be fine.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the song references this chapter are Ayumi Hamasaki songs.  
> Chapter title: "ourselves"  
> Lyrics: "still alone" and "Moments"  
> Song references: "teddy bear" and "A Song for XX"
> 
> All of which are very very good songs (although I've been disappointed in the final mix for "still alone" since it came out 16 years ago and honestly Ayu wasn't happy with it either which I felt very vindicated to learn. lol)


	11. la salle de bain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's now June 2011. Dan has spent months putting walls up around himself to keep Phil out. But Phil has been chasing him, and Dan can't get away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: vomit (not self-induced, from anxiety), and also there's a long af sex scene.
> 
> The chapter notes at the end have a summary of takeaways from the smut for those of you who aren't into reading that. The scene starts at the phrase "hormone-addled mind" and ends at the three-star divider before the long italicized scene (which is a flashback).
> 
> This chapter is more than 9000 words holy fff that's like twice as long as any other chapter good lord. Sex is wordy. lol

Dan and Phil leaned forward over Phil’s shiny new desk at his shiny new office.

After HKL’s album did well, Phil was able to relocate the Lester Music offices into a proper office park. It was a remarkable improvement; better lighting, less cramped hallways, more room in Phil’s office for multiple people to meet with him. Phil had also been able to pay Doug back for Dan’s lessons (finally), and he’d discovered and signed two more artists to the label. Because they were still developing their brand and sound, Phil spent a good deal of his time with them rather than Dan lately. Dan told himself he was fine with that. After all, his brand was under control. As for his sound, that was his own and it was still developing naturally. His first solo single had done well enough, and Dan and Phil were both confident about leaving Dan to find his own creative direction for the most part. So Phil was more hands-off right now, and Dan was perfectly happy with that. He needed to not be around Phil quite so much anyway.

Which wasn’t to say that Dan didn’t still need the occasional outside perspective. Like when it came time to choose songs that he’d record for the album.

A pile of written and half-written lyrics were scattered across the wood surface. Phil points at one, called “A Song for…”

“You _need_ to include that one on there,” he said. “That one’s… it’s good. You can tell it’s special.”

Dan picked up the page and skimmed over the words.

_I wonder why I’m crying like I am_  
_I wonder why I feel lost and alone_  
_I wonder why I’m frozen where I am_  
_Can anyone explain_

_I thought if I was gonna believe in you that one day you’d go away  
_ _That if I ever trusted anyone it only meant that I would be betrayed…_

The demo these words were written for was a dramatic rock ballad that had given him tingles the moment he heard it. The song was a beautiful mix of sorrowful, curious, angry, and innocent. He appreciated the movement of it, even though the arrangement wasn’t particularly complex. There was good tension and release and, most importantly, he _felt_ when he heard it. He let those feelings carry his hand across the page as he wrote the words, giving them only one or two more passes before deciding it was just about right. Ever the perfectionist, there were very few songs he could say that about. He knew he’d be incredibly fastidious about the final version of the song.

“It is special,” he said. “To me anyway. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s close.” He placed the sheet on the chair next to him, atop a stack of already-chosen songs.

“They’re never perfect to you,” Phil said, giving Dan a slight smile that was both knowing and pitying. Over the New Year, Dan had started coming over to Phil’s apartment whenever his mum got too stressful to be around. He’d sit and he’d write and occasionally ask Phil for feedback. Sometimes he’d just look up at him and smile. Phil really missed that. Of course, Phil would extend the invitation whenever it seemed like Dan needed it, but Dan hadn’t said yes in some time now.

Dan just shrugged at Phil’s fond observation.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Phil said, hoping Dan would volunteer something in the way of explanation. He knew that hope would go unfulfilled, though. It was odd, really -- Dan had been so scared of losing Phil as a friend when things got busy for Lester Music, so Phil thought he was doing his best not let him down. When Dan came over to write, Phil would go out of his way to be a friend to him too, letting Dan vent about his family or the industry, getting pizza for them, or watching movies. Sometimes Dan would stay overnight if they lost track of time. Of course, one of them would sleep on the sofa and the other would take Phil’s bed; it was perfectly on the up-and-up.

But after awhile, Dan began to close up. First he stopped talking about his mum and grandmother. Then he stopped writing at Phil’s apartment in order to avoid having to explain what he was writing about. Then he stopped writing at the office, too, only working on lyrics in his room at home. Then the easy banter between the two of them evaporated. On the rare occasion Dan did come over, he’d sit and watch whatever movie was on in complete silence. Phil wasn’t even sure Dan was really watching anymore. But Dan never said what was on his mind, so Phil couldn’t say.

Today was no real exception. Dan didn’t respond to Phil’s comment. Instead, he asked, “Why’d you start a record label, anyway?”

“Hm?”

“A record label. Just seems like such a silly thing to do in 2009 or 2008 or whenever you had this bright idea. What with mp3s reducing music sales and concert tickets being snatched up by scalpers before normal people can get hold of them.”

Phil chuckled, happy to see that Dan was still interested in engaging in real conversation. Even if Dan wasn’t the one opening up, maybe Phil could be optimistic if he was asking Phil a question like this.

“That kind of thing is exactly why I wanted to start a label, actually,” Phil explained. “Major labels aren’t run by the kinds of dreamers who see mp3s as an opportunity, they’re run by dinosaurs who are stuck in their ways. You heard of Spotify?”

“Yeah, I don’t really get it though.”

“That’s the future right there, I promise. Just a giant on-demand library of music, like radio that you pick all the time. Playlists that you can share with your friends instead of physical mix CDs. I’m excited about it. Other record labels? Scared out of their minds. Because they’re not thinking ahead, you know?”

Dan felt Phil’s enthusiasm slowly chip away at his resolve. He affected a dismissive tone as best he could. “Does Spotify even get you enough money? Like, buying a physical CD would be 10 or 15 pounds for you, but people listening to a song on demand, like, that’s a fraction of a penny.”

“For one thing, making people pay 10 pounds for the one song they like is just so… anti-consumer. I don’t like it. I’m happy to get a fraction of a penny if the customer is happy. Besides, there’s still stuff like iTunes, and that’s a pound per song. So it adds up eventually. But even if it didn’t, the business model I have in mind isn’t music-sales-dependent.” Phil leaned in slightly as he spoke, as though excited to share a secret. “The idea is to get a fanbase built up around you -- and Kickthestickz and whoever else I sign -- based on your personality and your brand and of course the sound of your music. _Then_ we can make money from things like merchandise and collector’s editions of your releases. You know, like that Radiohead box set I gave you. It’s music, sure, but it’s also non-music things that tie in with the brand.”

Upon hearing a reminder of that gift, Dan wished he could tighten his ribcage like a fist so his heart wouldn’t swell so much.

“Speaking of,” Phil added, “it’s your birthday again soon, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Twenty?”

Dan nodded.

“We should do something. We didn’t do anything last year. Why didn’t we do anything last year?”

Dan hesitated. If Phil wasn’t going to date him, he really needed to stop being so charming. It was throwing Dan off balance. “We were busy with the HKL album,” he muttered. “Um. Did you get the idea about collector’s editions from stuff like the Radiohead box?”

“Actually, I got the idea from how they’re selling such cool collector’s editions of video games.  Games are so often downloaded now, but big fans who want something physical that represents a game they love can still get something cool. Like that Halo 3 helmet a few years back.”

_Halo._ Dan knew Halo. He liked Halo. He knew what Phil was talking about. _Possible thing in common. Pounce on it. Wait-- no. No. Don’t do that. Yes do that! No--_ “D’you like Halo?” Dan asked before he could stop himself. He winced at himself. _Fuck,_ he thought. _Please say no. I really don’t want to have anything like that in common with you._

“Not Halo specifically, no. I’m not really talented enough to enjoy it.”

_Oh thank God,_ Dan thought, and nodded.

“I do like playing video games in general though,” Phil added. “What about you? You a gamer?”

“I uh.. Yeah, I play games. I actually really like Halo.” _Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuucck._

“How have I known you two years and not known this? So do you play games on XBox then? We should exchange gamer tags!”

_Shut up, Dan. Shut up shut up shut up._

_He is not your friend. Don’t let your guard down, you idiot._

_You’re just going to get hurt. You’ve been doing so well. Keep him at arm’s length._

_You have to._

“Um. Yeah… yeah, I guess? Maybe. We’ll do that later.”

 

***

 

“Happy Birthday, Dan!”

The symphony of friendly voices and clinking glass made Dan instantly smile.

“Thanks everyone,” Dan said warmly as he looked over everyone at the table. Chris, PJ, and Martyn were there of course, and Sarah had joined them along with Hazel, the new intern who’d just graduated from uni and wanted to go into artist management. Dan’s eyes finally landed on Phil. When Dan had arrived earlier, Phil was already seated. Martyn sat to one side of him, and Phil gestured for Dan to sit on his other side. He didn’t. He sat at the other end of the table altogether.

Still looking at Phil, Dan sipped his rosé with a neutral expression.

The restaurant was a cozy sort of place. Low lighting, quirky decor, the kind of food everyone at least kind of likes but no one ever gets emotional about. It was inoffensive and reliable, and that was what Dan needed right now.

“And Dan is now officially at his two-year mark as an artist under Lester Music,” Phil added, keeping eye contact with Dan. “So happy birthday to your career, as well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lester.”

Dan didn’t call him that in a joking or teasing way at all. He said it entirely politely, with a cold smile. And everyone at the table noticed. They’d heard Dan refer to him as “Mr. Lester” to other people, but _never_ to his face.

Phil’s expression was a strained sort of neutral. A fake calm. Dan couldn’t tell what lay underneath that, though. Sadness? Fear? Anger?

Dan exhaled, a fake but relaxed smile on his face. “I’m very lucky I have coworkers and colleagues like you guys. You’ve taken very good care of me up to this point, and very soon now I’ll be going into the studio to record my first solo album. If I were doing this with any other people I’d probably be petrified, but with you all, I know I’m in good hands. Thank you all so much.” Dan raised his glass again. “To Lester Music!”

Everyone cheerfully echoed Dan’s toast, except Phil, who briefly lifted his glass in the air without saying a word.

 

***

 

By the end of the night, Martyn, Sarah, and Hazel had left for the night to finish some rearrangement of furniture at the office. Phil and the former HKL remained. This was a more familiar group now, and Dan’s uber-professional pretense wouldn’t fly anymore.

“So, ‘Mr. Lester,’” Chris asked, leaning back in his chair. “The fuck did you do to Dan? ‘Cause he’s right vexed from the look of it.”

“Chris,” Dan grumbled. “I’m fine. Just leave it, okay?”

“Come on, Dan. It’s just us mates now.” Chris began snickering. “What is it, lover’s quarrel?” he asked sarcastically.

Dan and Phil both paled as they glared at him.

“What my tactless friend here is trying to ask,” PJ said, “is whether or not you two are okay.”

“Fine,” Dan and Phil said in unison.

“Okay, Phil, you’re fooling yourself,” Chris said matter-of-factly. “Dan, you only use the word ‘fine’ when things are definitely not fine, and you’ve used it twice now in this same conversation, so out with it.”

Dan sighed. He really did want to explain, but… he didn’t have an explanation really. He wanted Phil closer and further away both at the same time. He wanted Phil to love him; therefore, he wanted Phil to hate him. It didn’t even make sense in his own head. How could he explain it to someone else?

He shrugged.

“Dan,” Phil urged. “Honestly, if I did something wrong… I wish you’d tell me so I could fix it.”

“I…” Dan started.

He turned his head and saw Chris and PJ watching intently. An odd sort of stagefright seized him.

“I have to use the toilet,” he said and quickly got up from the table.

 

***

 

Dan took care of business, washed his hands, and then stared into the mirror for what felt like ages. He saw his face grow pale and the circles under his eyes darken as nausea squeezed at his stomach and slowly moved up into his throat. He took a few deep breaths, trying to relax, trying to fight it. But he lost that battle. He dashed into a cubicle, slamming the door shut as he puked his guts out into the toilet.

He knew he hadn’t had much to drink. That’s not what this was. This was pure nerves.

His first thought as he flushed the toilet was that Phil had now officially wasted all that money on dinner for him.

His second thought was that this was the worst birthday ever and maybe he should stop making plans.

His third thought was _is that Phil’s voice? Shit, this is embarrassing._

“Dan?” Phil called again. _Yup, Phil’s voice._

“I’m in here,” Dan answered aloud.

“Which one?”

“Last one.”

Phil slowly pushed open the unlatched cubicle door to see Dan sat on the floor, his arm draped over the toilet bowl, his eyes half-closed.

“Oh god, Dan. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, letting his arm collapse at his side as he leaned his head against the wall. “Too much wine.”

“You hardly had any. You getting sick?” Phil put a hand on Dan’s forehead. Dan wasn’t used to this. His mum hadn’t done this since he was very small.

“Mr. Lester?” Dan pleaded in a small voice.

Phil frowned. He wanted to ask why Dan was calling him that, but now wasn’t the time. “Yeah?”

_I’ve never been in love before,_ Dan thought. _But now I know you and I know what that word means. I’m scared of losing you, and that’s why I’m pushing you away. Why don’t you want me? What’s wrong with me? Am I ugly? Am I just a stupid child to you? Why do you act like you care? Will I ever find love if it’s not with you? Wanna do one of those pact things where if I’m not married by 30 I marry you? I feel sick. I know it’s not the wine. It’s that I’ll never be enough for you and I know it. You make me wish I were more. You make me wish I deserved you. Maybe if you liked me back I’d feel like I’m allowed to exist. Because right now I feel like a waste of space. I love you. I love you I love you I love you..._

“Are Chris and PJ still out there?” Dan asked instead.

“No, they uh… they had to go. I told them I’d check on you, you’ve been in here for awhile.”

“How long?” Dan’s face scrunched up.

“About twenty minutes.”

“Fuck.” Dan rubbed his face, trying to snap himself back to lucidity because clearly he wasn’t entirely present.

“Are you feeling alright? I can take you home.”

Dan closed his eyes. He admitted to himself that he could use the ride. The last thing he needed was to vomit all over some poor woman on the tube. “Give me a minute while I stand up.”

“Okay. Um… do you need help getting up?”

“No, I have enough to grab on to. Just… wait outside.”

“Sure. I’ll be there whenever you’re ready.”

Dan nodded, and Phil left the toilets. Dan couldn’t stop the tears that started flowing, but he was able to stay silent as he cried.

 

***

 

“Dan?”

“Hm?”

“Wake up, Dan. We’re here.”

Dan stared out the passenger side window at his home. He glared at it. He thought of his mother’s angry outburst earlier that day. She’d forgotten his birthday. “Well,” she said, “if you ever talked to me, I might remember you more. But you stay in that room all day, every day. And that’s when you’re not gallavanting around England telling every radio DJ how thankful you are for Phil Lester but not once mentioning me. No ‘hi mum,’ no ‘thanks mum.’ Just Phil Phil Phil all the time.”

And later, as usual, she didn’t apologize; she merely acted like it had never happened. As though some imaginary exchange of apologies had occurred. He didn’t want to deal with her tonight. Come to think of it, he didn’t want to deal with her ever again. He had the money to move out now. He decided he should do that as soon as possible. He’d miss his Nana, but he could always call her. It would be worth the trouble to get the fuck away.

But at least for tonight, he couldn’t go in there.

“I don’t want to go home.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go in there. I can’t handle it. Not tonight.”

“Okay.” Phil didn’t ask any questions. He never asked questions. Dan was thankful for that. “My sofa again?”

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

 

***

 

Not too long ago, Dan had nearly had his own body-shaped indentation in Phil’s sofa, he came over so often. He was a little sad to see the crease had smoothed over.

He remembered the first time he’d come over. The circumstances were similar… he just didn’t want to go home. When Phil offered to take the sofa so Dan could sleep in his bed, Dan said Phil should sleep in his own bed as a subtle come-on. Phil either didn’t notice the bait was there or didn’t take it, however, and they ended up sleeping in separate rooms anyway. Dan couldn’t help but be a little disappointed, but he tried to put it out of his mind. Phil was being a gentleman, that was all. But Dan was a lovesick young man, so it hurt more and more every time he came over and nothing happened. Sometimes he could trick himself into thinking it was enough just to be under the same roof as Phil.

But of course it wasn’t.

“If you want to talk about it,” Phil said as he sat next to Dan on the sofa, “I’m here. No pressure, but… you know.”

Dan nodded.

“Thanks, Mr. Lester.”

Phil’s expression hardened. “For God’s sake, Dan.”

“What?” Dan spat.

“I don’t understand why you’re calling me that!”

Dan closed his eyes, frustrated. “I don’t know. Can we not talk about that?”

Phil took a breath. “Okay,” he said calmly. “But whenever you’re ready to talk about that, I’ll be here then too.”

Dan opened his eyes and looked at him. A weight was pulling his shoulders down. His lower lip trembled. He needed his friend back so badly. He didn’t _want_ to call Phil ‘Mr. Lester.’ He wanted to have someone to vent to again. He needed someone to be there for him right now, so he just… started talking.

“She…” Dan started, his volume low. “She forgot my birthday. This morning. And… blamed it on me.”

“Your mum did?”

Dan nodded.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry, Dan.”

Dan shrugged. He narrowed his eyes when he realized the shrug felt like an unnatural thing to do. The weight on his shoulders wasn’t there anymore.

“You know what?” Dan muttered. “Fuck that woman. I don’t need her approval. If she can’t remember what day she gave birth to me that’s her own fucking fault.” He let himself sink into his old spot on the sofa. “Do you have anything to drink?” he asked.

“Sure, what would you like? Water, ribena…?”

“Beer? Wine? Some ridiculous fruity thing with rum in it?” Dan chuckled.

“You sure that’s a good idea after earlier?”

“I’m alright,” Dan said with a smile. And he found he meant it in multiple ways. His walls had crumbled, at least for tonight, and it just felt so right to be treating Phil like a friend he could confide in again. Maybe it made him stronger, and not weaker, to put his faith in Phil. And maybe he should stop childishly calling him ‘Mr. Lester’ as if doing so changed anything about his feelings.

Phil nodded. “Okay.”

 

***

 

At some point, Dan was too drunk to show Phil how to play Halo properly anymore and they collapsed laughing onto the sofa.

“You’re… inept,” Dan said. “But like, in an adorable way.”

“Adorably inept,” Phil recapped. “Well, at least I’m not hideously inept.”

Dan smiled at him. “You could never be hideous, Phil.”

“Compared to you I am.”

“What d’you mean, compared to me?”

“It’s just that, you’re… y’know.”

“I’m what?” Dan smiled.

Phil shrugged. “Beautiful.”

Dan had a thing about the word ‘beautiful.’ Before Phil, people had called him ‘cute,’ ‘adorable,’ things like that. His grandma called him ‘handsome’ when he wore anything formal. But to him, a word like ‘beautiful’ had gravity to it. You described things like the ocean, sunsets, mountain views, the stars, and other cosmically relevant things with words like “beautiful.” Phil was the only person to have ever called him that, and it absolutely made putty of him.

“I’m beautiful?”

“Yeah. I said as much the day we met. Don’t you remember? I remember.”

“I do, I just… I thought you were, like, blowing rainbow smoke up my arse.” They both laughed.

“No, I was being serious!” Phil said. “You really are beautiful.”

The silence that followed was comfortable at first, but as soon as Phil decided he had a question to ask Dan, the atmosphere shifted.

“Thank you,” Phil said.

“For what?”

“You called me Phil a minute ago.”

“Oh.”

“But… why were you calling me Mr. Lester today?”

Dan groaned. “I wish you didn’t ask. I’m too drunk to be dishonest right now.” Dan scoffed at himself and shook his head. “It’s so stupid. I’m just a stupid kid.”

“You’re 20. You’re not a kid.”

“Am I not? I’m more of a kid than you. I know that for sure.”

“And I’m _technically_ more of a kid than my brother is, but that doesn’t make me a kid. You’re a grown man. You’re not stupid. Come on, talk to me. Please.”

“It is stupid though. It’s stupid because... I really did want us to still be friends when the label got bigger and you got busier. And you clearly tried to stay friends with me. You’ve been nothing but kind and welcoming to me.” Dan shrugged and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “ _I’m_ the one who’s got distant,” he muttered.

“But _why_ did you?”

Dan looked straight at Phil, his eyebrows knitted together. His vision was fuzzy thanks to the drinks, but he could see those blue eyes perfectly, like beacons in the middle of this otherwise beige room. He told himself he was staring in order to anchor himself, to stop the room from spinning, but he was lying to himself. Those eyes just made him feel more and more dizzy. Just a different sort of dizzy.

“Do you honestly need me to tell you that?” he asked.

Phil hesitated only briefly before shaking his head. “No,” he said. “No, I guess not.”

Dan’s eyes flickered down to Phil’s mouth. Why had he never noticed those bow-shaped lips before?

Unable to stop himself, he lifted his fingers and lightly touched Phil’s lower lip. Phil gasped quietly. Gravity pulled Dan’s hand down, pulling Phil’s lip down with it, ever so slightly, revealing his bottom teeth. Dan tilted his head as he gazed at Phil’s mouth, studying every detail, watching as it began to move.

“Dan…” Phil whispered. “What are you doing?”

“You say I’m beautiful,” Dan raised his eyes back up to Phil’s, glancing back and forth between them. “You’re beautiful too. I know you said you didn’t want to hear it from me, but...”

“You remember that?”

“I can’t forget it. I want to. But I can’t.”

Phil let a hand come up and hover just inches from Dan’s straightened hair, hesitating for a beat before running his fingers through it. It was slick between his fingers, shining under the light, flowing almost like liquid. The smooth movement was a relief in the midst of his tilting surroundings.

Phil’s eyes returned to Dan’s face, smooth and unblemished with youth. He found himself envious of it, having noticed crow’s feet forming already on his own eyes and hating the scarring on his chin from teenage breakouts. It was unfair how like porcelain Dan’s face was. Dan’s eyes were dark, bright, and wide. His lips and cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, the touch of pink making him almost doll-like. _Beautiful._

Dan lifted himself up onto his knees slightly, just enough to get his face closer to Phil’s. His eyes locked onto Phil’s lips as he put his hands onto Phil’s shoulders, as much to keep himself balanced on the unstable sofa cushions as to just be touching Phil somewhere, somehow.

“We…” Phil stammered, “we shouldn’t.”

“And why the fuck not?” Dan whined, trying to sound assertive despite his voice still being drunkenly weak.

Phil shook his head almost imperceptibly. “I… I’m… your boss, Dan,” he muttered quietly. He didn’t dare say that was the only reason why not. He didn’t want to give Dan too much hope by saying he wanted it just as badly. Even though he did. He really, really did.

“I don’t care,” Dan said in a low voice, his eyes fixed upon Phil’s mouth. “Rewrite my contract so you get every penny I earn. Manipulate me into writing songs for other people for free. Fuck, even drop me from the label. I don’t care.” He looked up at Phil pleadingly. “I don’t care,” he repeated in a whisper.

“I’d never do any of that to you,” Phil said, shaking his head.

Dan smiled a subtle, warm smile and put a hand on Phil’s cheek. “I know.”

_Because you love me, right?_ Dan thought. _Maybe you can’t say it, and maybe you can’t commit to it, but I’m sure you love me. You have to love me. I hope you love me._

Phil’s resolve, already on a shaky foundation that was weakened by alcohol and Dan’s flirtation, was totally crumbling at that point. “No one can know.”

Dan nearly rolled his eyes at that. “Who the fuck would I ever tell?”

“I dunno, Martyn? PJ or Chris? Your mum?”

Dan smiled at the ridiculousness of that. “ _Your_ mum,” he said sarcastically. Phil smirked back in response, his eyes traveling all over Dan’s face, and neck, and chest, and arms, and shoulders, and hair, and...

“Phil,” Dan said, bringing Phil’s eyes back to his. “I _know_ it’s not technically okay. I don’t want us to do… what… it _feels_ like we’re about to do... and have it to come back to bite you in the ass later. But... I want you.”

Phil looked apprehensive.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m the one seducing _you_ here, okay? You’re not taking advantage. You’re not taking anything I don’t want to give you.”

“I… I guess…” Phil’s thought processes were so fuzzy that Dan’s logic sounded perfectly reasonable. Phil had already started to forget why he should resist pursuing Dan sexually or romantically. What Dan was saying made perfect sense to his hormone-addled mind.

The two of them continued looking at each other, acting as though _not_ fucking was an option they were seriously considering in any way. The ruse fell away in short order as their breaths accelerated. Their eye contact was charging the air around them with electricity. The alcohol ran through their veins, carrying adrenaline with it. And then, as though hypnotized, they leaned towards one another, hesitating briefly when their mouths were only millimeters apart.

Phil eventually closed the distance, kissing Dan hard on the mouth. Dan returned it, kissing Phil equally passionately and desperately. For a moment it was teeth awkwardly catching lips between them. Whose were whose was impossible to determine. They hit a stride before too long, though. The mess of a kiss became a graceful dance their lips were sharing, moving together as though they’d been doing this for years.

Phil pushed Dan onto his back and ran his hands down Dan’s chest. Finding the hem of Dan’s shirt, he pulled away from the kiss.

“Is this… is this okay?” he asked nervously.

Almost exasperated by Phil’s hesitant politeness, Dan nodded enthusiastically.

Phil smiled and pushed Dan’s shirt up, exposing his smooth belly. Phil moved down to kiss the milky white skin there, affectionately grazing the surface with his teeth every so often. Dan giggled when he did, trembling as goosebumps appeared all over him. Phil came back up to kiss Dan’s lips once again, then leaned over Dan’s ear. Dan could feel Phil’s warm breath and he shuddered at the sensation.

“Can I go further down?” Phil asked, his voice low and sultry, like a softly rumbling earthquake in Dan’s ear.

“Fuck yes,” Dan said. “Do it.”

With a renewed sense of urgency and vigor, Phil unbuttoned Dan’s jeans and pushed them down hard, getting them as far as his knees. He knelt back, sitting on his feet, and grasped the fabric resting at Dan’s ankles. With two quick and eager tugs, Dan’s legs were fully exposed, his erection plain as day despite being covered. Phil began to remove that barrier immediately, but this time pushing the waistband of Dan’s Calvin Klein underwear down slowly, teasingly. Phil seemed as though he was taking time to enjoy the reveal, worshipping Dan’s cock with his eyes as he slowly stripped it of the only obstacle that remained.

“Oh my god, Dan…” Phil whispered. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Dan let a smile tug at one corner of his mouth as he kicked his underwear the rest of the way off. Phil slid his hand over Dan’s swiftly reddening cock, looking up at Dan’s face just in time to see his smirk before it vanished in favor of closed eyes and an open, gasping mouth.

“Oh god, Phil, yes,” Dan moaned.

“You like that?” Phil said.

“Fuck yeah.”

Phil squeezed ever so slightly, sliding his hand along the shaft slowly at first, then gradually speeding up in time with Dan’s rhythmic panting. His hand continued working as he bent over forward to kiss a trail down Dan’s chest and stomach, traveling lower, and lower still, until he’d reached the head of Dan’s cock and flicked his tongue lightly over the slit there.

Dan gasped, only able to articulate an “Ah--” before Phil’s lips were encircling the head completely. “Fuck!” Dan called.

Phil’s lips were wrapped tight around him now, moving up and down at a measured pace that gradually quickened.

“Yes, yes, yes, just like that…”

Dan could feel Phil’s tongue moving around the shaft, focusing its attention on that spot right under the head but never ceasing moving even for a moment. It was almost too much. Dan couldn’t hold in the quiet moans that came out every time he exhaled. It didn’t help that Phil kept looking up at Dan as he worked. Dan was thankful for the sofa armrest propping him up just enough to give him this view. It really enhanced the already exquisite feeling -- Phil was _masterful_ at this. This touch, this heat, was enough to make Dan nearly come undone.

But he wasn’t having that. He wanted more.

“Phil,” he moaned. “Phil, you have to stop or I’m gonna come…”

Phil pulled his mouth away from Dan, punctuating the detachment with a kiss on the tip of Dan’s cock. Dan shivered and gave a tiny whine.

“Take your shirt off,” Phil said, his tone gently demanding. “Socks too.”

Dan readily obeyed while Phil got off the sofa and stood there, removing his own clothing. He was deliberate and slow about the process, being effortlessly seductive. As Dan watched, he had a hard time focusing on the task of removing his own socks. Partway through pulling them down, he kept forgetting about them, helpless to do anything but stare.

So he stared. At the man who said he was charismatic. Who believed he could sing if he practiced. Who gave him the best birthday gifts he’d ever received. Who believed he could write. Who knew he could be a star solo and didn’t need a group behind him.

Who called him beautiful.

Dan pulled off his remaining sock and dropped to his knees on the floor. Naked and vulnerable, he sat on his bare feet, looking up at Phil. This position, kneeling in front of him, was the only thing that seemed appropriate to Dan given the reverence he felt. His normally wide eyes sacrificed their look of amazement in favor of a look of want, of desire. Half-lidded, barely focused, almost hiding away from the bright beautiful sunlight that was Phil Lester.

“I want you,” Dan told him. He exhaled shakily, nervous about performing for this man, who he couldn’t help but think of as his master in so many ways. And he knew this performance was far more nerve-wracking than any concert he’d ever do.

“What do you want, Dan?” Phil asked, wanting clear dirty talk from his protégé.

“I want you to fuck my throat.” Dan’s boldness shot blood straight from Phil’s heart into his dick and he nearly gasped at it. “I want to taste you,” Dan continued.

Phil stepped forward so his cock was less than an inch from Dan’s face. He grabbed the back of Dan’s hair hard, tugging on it just enough to startle Dan into gasping.

“Pull harder,” Dan hissed. Phil did as he was told. Dan cried out. “Yes!”

Phil looked at Dan with calm, loving eyes. He gulped nervously, unsure about doing this but wanting to make Dan happy. “Hit my thigh twice if you need me to stop, okay?”

Dan nodded.

“Okay,” Phil said. “Open your mouth for me, angel.”

Dan did as instructed and was quickly met with the feeling of Phil’s cock shoving its way past his lips and over the rough surface of his tongue. When Dan moaned deliciously, Phil took it as a cue to move faster, but he didn’t go any deeper. Dan responded by pushing his head forward, pulling against the fingers that were tied up in his hair. He dropped the back of his tongue, opening up his throat to welcome Phil inside.

Outside of Phil’s line of sight, Dan also squeezed his thumb. He’d read somewhere that this could tame his gag reflex. It seemed to mostly be working. He swallowed around the head of Phil’s dick, eliciting a keen that sent chills down Dan’s entire body.

“Oh _fuck,_ Dan…” Phil cried. Dan moaned in as deep a voice as he could in response. Phil threw his head back and moaned loudly at the vibration, giving in to his urge to fuck Dan’s mouth faster and harder.

“Fuck... fuck, Dan, I’m gonna…”

Dan pulled away as soon as he felt the veins in Phil’s cock pulsate, closing his eyes as Phil pushed out a loud moan. Phil’s cum splashed in hot white ropes across Dan’s lips, chin, and cheeks. Dan took it all onto his face, feeling dirty and used but in the best way possible.

Phil let himself catch his breath before dropping to his knees weakly.

Dan kept his eyes half-closed as he swiped a finger down his cheek, scooping up the cum that had landed there. He inserted his finger into his mouth and sucked it clean, letting Phil watch as his cheeks hollowed.

“Mm,” Dan said, removing his finger. “You taste good.”

He ate another fingerful of cum, cleaning off his chin this time, and Phil felt himself grow hard again.

“Fuck,” Phil whimpered. He leaned forward and kissed Dan, tasting what remained of himself there. His tongue greedily explored Dan’s mouth, trying to take back some of that cum for himself, moaning at how hot this was.

They broke away from the kiss to breathe, and Phil grabbed his boxers and wiped off the rest of Dan’s face. Dan smiled, and he smiled back as he tossed his boxers off to the side somewhere. Dan blinked slowly, the pink of his cheeks only more emphasized now. He was wet, flushed, dirty, and violated and Phil couldn’t get enough of the sight.

He leaned forward, combing his fingers through Dan’s hair and bringing his mouth to Dan’s ear. He was unsure about asking what he wanted to ask, but he took a breath in, steeled himself, and gently whispered his question. “Can I fuck you, Dan?”

“Oh god yes,” Dan said. “Yes, please…”

Phil gave a gutteral, animal moan. Almost a growl. He tightened his grip on Dan’s hair again. “God, say that again. Say ‘please’ for me.”

“Please,” Dan said, his whine more of a command than a plea. “Fuck me.”

Phil interrupted Dan with another passionate kiss on the mouth, eventually breaking from it just to let his lips travel down to Dan’s jawline, neck, and chest. He eventually backed away from Dan, who was smiling gently but brightly, eager to have this experience with Phil.

“I’m gonna get what we need,” Phil said as Dan sat up. “You better be lying on your stomach when I get back. Put one of the sofa cushions under your hips when you do, okay?”

“But… won’t it get dirty?”

“If I’m doing my job right, it ought to.” Phil attempted a wink -- keyword being attempted -- and Dan chuckled as Phil turned toward his bedroom to retrieve a condom and some lube.

But Dan hesitated slightly.

_This room has better lighting than my bedroom did. The scars… they’ll be so obvious. And he hasn’t seen them in two years. What if he’s repulsed by them now? What if this whole thing is a mistake?_

Dan took a breath, calming himself, and grabbed a cushion.

_Phil thinks I’m beautiful,_ he reminded himself. _Please, please, let Phil still think I’m beautiful._

Dan placed the cushion on the floor and draped himself over it, letting the soft carpeting caress his chest. He stacked his hands flat on the ground in front of him and rested a cheek on them. He breathed in with his eyes shut, and breathed out his mouth with his eyes open.

Phil returned, protection in one hand, bottle of lube in the other, and a calm smile on his face. The expression was a delightful mix of mischievous and loving, and Dan let himself smile calmly in response. Soon enough, however, Phil was out of his field of vision, positioned behind Dan where he could see the scars plain as day. Dan tensed up, waiting for the inevitable rejection.

But Phil lightly traced the length of the longer scar with his fingers. “Beautiful,” he said.

Dan nearly cried.

“You’re so beautiful, Dan.”

“Thank you,” Dan whispered. “I… I was worried that… you’d suddenly hate my scars.”

“Never,” Phil said.

Phil reached up to lightly squeeze one of Dan’s shoulders in each hand. He pushed his thumbs in harder, massaging the muscles near Dan’s shoulder blades and moving in close to Dan’s spine, careful not to touch the spine itself. His goal was to help Dan relax, and if the low groaning coming from Dan’s mouth was any indication, he was succeeding.

“God, Phil, your hands…” Dan said. “You’re incredible at that.”

Phil smiled as he moved the massage down Dan’s back until he reached his waist.

“Ready?” Phil asked.

Dan breathed evenly, but deeply, trying to keep himself calm. This took real effort on Dan’s part. Even when it was consensual, sex was rarely this good for him, his partners rarely this considerate. Part of him didn’t want to get his hopes up that Phil’s kindness and patience would continue. Working to shut up that part of himself took a few moments.

“I think so,” Dan answered honestly. He focused on staying relaxed, knowing from experience the painful penalty his body would make him pay otherwise. Hearing the sound of Phil opening the lube and applying it to his fingers didn’t help; nor did the feeling of cold lube dripping onto his entrance. Dan gasped quietly and slightly. “Oh my god, Phil!” Dan said with a giggle. “Warm that shit up first next time!”

“Sorry!” Phil replied, giggling right back. “I forgot how cold this stuff can get. It’s been awhile.”

“Has it?” Dan asked. This honestly surprised him. A good looking and ambitious guy like Phil, and it’s been “awhile”?

“Yeah. I was newly single when I met you, and I haven’t had any hookups since. So it’s been at least two years.”

Dan blinked. He chose not to read too much into that revelation. He’d only end up heartbroken later on if he did, he was sure of it.

“And yet you have lube and condoms?” Dan asked. He immediately regretted doing so, because whether Phil was intending to use these items on him or on someone else, he wasn’t sure how he’d react to the answer he got.

“Nothing wrong with being prepared,” Phil said.

Oddly enough, Dan was satisfied with that answer. “Fair enough.”

Phil’s fingers were resting on Dan’s rim then, and Phil seemed hesitant. He wanted to be good to Dan. He wanted to do this right. He didn’t want to hurt him.

“Do you still want this?” he asked.

Dan smiled and sighed. “From you? Yes. God, yes.”

“Okay, but… we’ll do the traffic light thing.”

“The traffic light thing?”

“Yeah. Tell me green if everything is going okay, yellow if you need me to slow down, and red if you want me to stop.”

Dan nodded. “I can do that.”

“Okay. Now relax.”

Dan did, and felt Phil’s index finger slowly slide into him. There was little resistance at this point, but he slowed to a stop about halfway in.

“It’s okay, you can go deeper,” Dan insisted. “You won’t break me. I can promise you that.”

Phil pushed his finger in the whole way and twisted it around a little, mostly to ensure that every wall was lubricated and ready. Dan moaned softly.

“Is another finger okay?” Phil asked.

“Yes, please, more.”

Phil let a second finger join the first, and Dan let out an “oh” as it slowly slid inside him.

“Fuck yes,” he sighed.

Phil pulled his fingers out halfway, then slid them back inside again.

“Faster,” Dan said.

Phil picked up speed, pulling his fingers out halfway then sliding them in again, and again, and again.

“Oh god yes, yes yes yes _fuck_ Phil _yes!!”_

Phil continued repeatedly pushing his two fingers into Dan for a moment before hesitantly adding a third.

“Ah!” Dan cried. Phil stopped moving his fingers.

“Oh god, are you okay?” Phil asked.

Dan’s answer was the last thing Phil expected. “Did I tell you to fucking stop moving, Lester?” he asked with a growl in his tone. “If I say red light, stop. Otherwise, _keep fucking going.”_

Dan’s assertiveness was the hottest goddamned thing Phil had ever heard.

“Yes sir,” he said, before slowly starting again. He gradually accelerated until he was all but punching his fingers into Dan, making Dan cry out loud.

“Fuck!”

Dan’s moans were enough to make Phil clench his teeth together. “Oh god, fucking hell,” he growled, his voice shaking with his quick movements. “I want you _so bad,_ Dan.”

“Fuck me then,” Dan said loudly and clearly, affecting a slight whine. “ _Really_ fuck me.”

Phil pulled his fingers out of Dan’s ass and straddled Dan’s upper legs. He started aligning his cock with Dan’s entrance before impatiently tearing open the condom packet and scoffing at himself for nearly forgetting. Rolling the condom onto himself took him two attempts because he tried to roll it on the wrong way first. He felt himself blush, and was thankful Dan couldn’t see the blunders.

The condom itself was of the lubricated variety, but just to make sure it was as comfortable for Dan as possible, he applied more lube to it, tossing the bottle aside before sliding his hand up and down his length a few times, squeezing ever so slightly. Once he was hard enough and the lube was warm enough, he touched the tip of his dick to Dan’s ass and took a breath.

“Ready?”

“Stop talking and fuck me already,” Dan said. He was relaxed now, but he wasn’t sure it would last unless Phil fucked him senseless right that moment.

_You said it, didn't you?  
"Just do it, kill me..." _

Phil leaned forward over Dan, supporting himself with his hands on the floor on either side of Dan’s body. The head of Phil’s cock pushed inside Dan slowly, prying open Dan’s entrance smoothly as it invaded. Dan breathed in through his teeth, the stretch stinging ever so slightly with Phil’s cock being considerably wider than three fingers. But the sting was just as much as Dan needed to enjoy this, no more and no less. Dan found himself leaning his head back and clawing at the carpeted floor. It felt so good.

_I just had a dream and in it you had died_  
_And I had no choice then but to love you_  
_Oh, don't make me have those kinds of dreams again..._

Phil, pushed inside Dan to the hilt, paused until Dan nodded, giving him the go-ahead to continue. Phil did, pulling out slowly and pushing in gently. “Color?”

“Green,” Dan replied, letting his eyes flutter closed as he took in the sensation of Phil’s body grinding against his. He was still breathing to relax, though.

Seeing this, Phil lightly massaged Dan’s shoulder again for a moment while continuing to slowly push himself in and out of Dan.

“You okay, love?” Phil asked.

Dan’s eyes shot open.

“Wh… what did you call me?”

“Love?”

Dan gulped. Except it wasn’t a gulp at all. He was suddenly too relaxed for that. It was the most relaxed he’d been all night. So in reality he just paused and happened to swallow at the same time. He knew, on some level, he _should_ be nervous, that Phil calling him “love” should be wrong. It should be over a boundary. It should be inappropriate.

But it felt so right to hear him say it. And even if it was just for tonight, he wanted to keep hearing him say it.

_A scent so sweet that it got me dirty_  
_The troops to protect me were out on patrol_  
_A lie so big that it got me dirty_  
_As soon as I said it a wound opened up_

“Call me that again.”

“Of course, love.”

Phil knew that in the morning there’d be a part of his brain screaming at him that this had been a mistake, and that he toyed with Dan’s feelings by complying. But as he fucked Dan, that part of his brain was in a drunken coma. Besides, it felt so _right_ to call Dan “love.” So he did. And when Dan said to move, and when he demanded that Phil pin his wrists down, and when he told Phil fuck him harder, and then to fuck him faster, he did all those things too.

Dan felt wrapped up in the incredible feeling of Phil fucking him. No… not fucking. Phil was making love to him. This was an embrace, not possession. It was giving as much as it was taking. It felt... amazing. It all felt _so amazing._ It was like the energy between the two of them was a heavenly light glowing brighter and brighter. He felt safe here. Dan had never had sex like this before. As his orgasm neared, he was on the verge of tears.

_So wash me, cut me, I'm underwater_  
_My lungs and breathing are quite affected_  
_And when I do melt down entirely_  
_Immediately eat my everything_

Phil saw the desperate, almost pained look on Dan’s face in profile. “Color?” he asked, slowing and getting ready to stop if necessary.

“Bright fucking green,” Dan cried. “Don’t stop. God, please, please, never stop…”

Phil leaned forward to kiss the back of Dan’s head and then rest his cheek against Dan’s, and the intimacy of the act pushed Dan over the edge. He moaned loudly before going silent. His hands balled into fists on the floor, and Phil moved his fingers up from Dan’s wrists. Dan opened his hands back up to give Phil’s fingers room to rest between his, and they closed their interwoven fingers back up together.

Phil lifted his head back up to get more leverage, and accelerated and deepened his thrusts one more time. Eventually the heat built up within him and his movement became erratic, the rhythm interfered with by the pleasure that was about to explode out of him. He came for the second time that night, panting vocally. As his breath slowed back to normal, he slid back to pull out, and gently collapsed onto Dan’s back.

His eyes lined up with Dan’s largest scar. As Phil exhaled, Dan closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of hot breaths traveling gently over his skin.

Phil kissed that white, jagged line. “My angel,” he whispered. “My love.”

_I'm not afraid of a little boredom_  
_Why did the two of them have a chance to meet?_  
_I'm not afraid..._

 

***

 

_“I have to use the toilet,” Dan said and quickly got up from the table._

_Phil watched him walk with a purpose towards the back corner of the restaurant as Chris hissed quietly at him._

_“Seriously, what is going on? What’ve you done?”_

_“I haven’t done anything. But… I think that’s why he’s upset with me.”_

_PJ looked puzzled, but Chris had a look as though he knew what was probably going on._

_“He um… I think he has feelings for me. He’s never just flat-out said it, but… He’s told me in his own little ways. Hundreds of times.”_

_“Like what ways?” PJ asked._

_“He… I mean, some of it is personal, I’d rather not share it. But he’ll go out of his way to say things I’ve said I’d like to hear, to do things with me that I’ve said I’d like to do.”_

_“Wait, have you slept with him?” Chris asked._

_Phil chuckled. “No, nothing so extreme, don’t worry.”_

_“Good, because if you did…” Chris shook his head and widened his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything. His face alone said “that would be a catastrophe.”_

_“But like… there were songs on the HKL album that he wrote about me. ‘Cappuccino,’ for example.”_

_Phil could tell from PJ and Chris’s faces that they were silently going over the lyrics in their heads. After a moment, their eyes widened._

_“Oh whoa,” PJ said._

_“Yeah, whoa’s right,” Chris replied._

_“I think ‘Trust’ is about me also.”_

_“That one makes sense,” PJ said, casually at first, and then his eyes widened. “Oh wait, that one has that lyric about getting closer to your lips…”_

_“Have you kissed Dan?!” Chris nearly shrieked._

_“No! Oh my god. No. There was one evening where… with less self-control... maybe I would have. But no, it didn’t happen.”_

_PJ’s eyes narrowed as he replayed what Phil just said in his mind. “Wait, so… so you did_ want _to…?”_

_Phil scrunched up his face, realizing he’d said too much. “Ah… yeah. I, um... I like him too.”_

_“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Chris said._

_“Phil, you can’t keep him on as an artist,” PJ said, his tone entirely sympathetic. “Whether you’ve done anything or not, your feelings for him are still gonna compromise your ability to, y’know, be professional.”_

_“They already have, PJ. I’m trying really hard not to let how I feel get in the way of anything, but I’m only human. I don’t even know if I really like his lyrics or if I really think he’s that charismatic, or if I just… like him.” Phil shrugged. “I hope I’m right about him. Maybe I’m not. But… now that he is signed, now that he has this opportunity, I owe it to him to keep him on board and let him try. If his album performs like shit, then fine, I’ll drop him, but I want to see what he creates. I want to hear him sing some of the words I’ve read. They’re just amazing. And I love his voice so much. And can you imagine what kind of show he’d put together when it’s time to go on tour? He’s so smart and so deliberate, like he’s a perfectionist of the absolute highest order. Nothing he does is without purpose, and… I want to see what he has to offer. So, so badly.”_

_Chris and PJ tilted their heads._

_“Aw,” PJ said. “You’re like… his biggest fan.”_

_Phil nodded, his eyes unfocused. He was elsewhere, imagining Dan singing in front of an arena full of people. He smiled. “I am.”_

_“You don’t just_ like _him,” Chris said. “You’re in bloody_ love _with him.” It wasn’t a question. It was a plain and simple fact._

_Phil couldn’t breathe._

_“I am,” he said, looking Chris in the eye._

_“Well you best check on him then, he’s been in the toilet for ages. Definitely not just using the facilities, yeah?”_

_“Oh god, you’re right,” Phil muttered._

_“We need to head out anyway,” PJ said. “I’ve got a messy flat that needs my attention and Chris is my ride.”_

_The two of them stood up to head out._

_“Don’t fuck things up for him, Phil,” PJ said._

_“Don’t fuck things up for either one of you,” Chris added._

_Phil nodded and they left him there. He looked over towards the “Restrooms” sign, hoping he’d see Dan march out. He waited. Nothing._

_“Ffffff…..fluffy bunnies.”_

_He got up quickly, pushing the table slightly as he did, and power walked towards the toilets._

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here's the tumblr link](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/176976052438/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1150) because I hear people like when authors do that and I'd sure love if you shared my fic. <3
> 
> "A Song for..." lyrics and description are based on "A Song for xx" by Ayumi Hamasaki.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWYOsFuazfk
> 
> Chapter title and sex scene song lyrics from "la salle de bain" by Sheena Ringo.  
> The version of the song that'll appear on Dan's album sounds like the Japanese version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nRfrcaMJPnM  
> But the version that includes these exact lyrics is the symphonic English version:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zxOkSlG1CmA
> 
> "Trust," which Phil mentions to Chris & PJ in the flashback restaurant scene, is "Trust" by Ayumi Hamasaki. (Which yes, appears to be about her producer but includes a lyric about kissing him which is... hmmm. lol)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KEwRYtiSc0Q
> 
> OKAY SMUT SCENE SUMMARY since it's important to character development.
> 
> \- Dan is clearly a more dominant type of person, but he acts more submissive.  
> \- Phil, conversely, is more of a sub who likes being told what to do, and yet he takes the role of the dominant one because that’s what Dan wants.  
> \- Dan is entirely in control of the dynamic between them here, but he’s not letting himself be the one in control because he thinks of Phil as being above him.  
> \- The entire time, though, they clearly communicate what they want and need, and they even occasionally have conversational asides that show their true status as equals. Neither of them is above the other despite their respective beliefs about their dynamic.  
> \- They smile at one another, giggle at things, and clearly adore each other; however, each of them is still very concerned with impressing the other. They each put each other on a pedestal and don’t realize how high up they themselves are in the eyes of the other person.  
> \- Dan learns that Phil hasn’t slept with anyone since they met.  
> \- At the end of the night, Phil calls Dan “love” and "my love" despite knowing it's a bad idea.
> 
> I hope you guys liked this chapter, I've been messing with it all week because I was so worried about it. I'm scared to death there are massive, obvious mistakes in it. I hope it turned out okay. Anyway, thanks to everyone who comments and leaves feedback, you guys mean the world to me. <3


	12. Instinct / Time is a Reckless Driver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil gets advice from his brother and lawyer. Dan gets advice from his lawyer and grandmother. Then they go to the recording studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's gettin' real lol
> 
> Thanks so much for continuing to support this story, everyone. :)
> 
> [Like or share this chapter on Tumblr](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177071073593/the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1250)

Dan woke up first. It was definitely daylight, but the sofa was shielding his eyes from the worst of it.

The skin of another person was pressed against his back. That person’s arm was draped over his midriff, hand in his, their fingers woven together.

The person snored quietly.

Dan’s stomach tightened, and he took a breath, trying to push the nausea away again. This time it worked, but he didn’t know for how long.

He pried Phil’s arm off of him and rolled over. He stared at Phil’s sleeping face for a moment, wanting to pretend that this was okay for as long as he could. He wanted to pretend that Phil meant it when he called him “love.” That they were just another couple. That there were no professional ties preventing them from being boyfriends. But the spell had to break eventually. Reality had its demands, and Dan needed to finish up the lyrics to the songs he’d be recording the next day.

_ I’m not ready to face another day yet. God, how dare the sun just… go and rise like that. What a bastard. _

Calmly but with a sense of dread hanging above him, Dan pushed Phil’s hair off his forehead and kissed the exposed skin there.

Phil blinked and groaned. “Hmm...?”

“G’morning,” Dan said.

Phil smiled at him. “Good morning.” He noticed that Dan wasn’t smiling, though. “You okay?” he asked, his face gradually morphing to one of concern.

Dan lowered his eyes. “Last night was… surreal.”

He saw that they were holding hands in the space between their chests. He hadn’t even noticed they’d done that. 

“Yeah,” Phil exhaled.

The questions they knew they needed to ask but were too afraid to flashed through both their minds. _ Are we going to talk about this? What was that? What happens now? _

Phil frowned. Dan wasn’t okay. Fair enough, since neither was he. Maybe they both needed something routine. Something comfortingly normal. 

“So… coffee, then?” Phil asked.

“Yeah,” Dan replied quietly.

“The usual?”

“Sure.”

As Phil got up off the floor and stretched, Dan watched as his naked form seemed to extend to the sky. 

He’d now had a taste of what Phil was like as a lover. Rough, but loving. Communicative. Considerate. Insanely hot. Dan wanted more of it. He wanted it every day for the rest of his life. But they’d agreed not to tell anyone. This was really most likely a one-night thing, nothing more, no matter what Dan wished. The cold hard reality of it threatened to smash his heart like a sledgehammer. He felt absolutely nothing but regret.

Phil turned back to look at Dan, who was hurriedly gathering his clothes and starting to get dressed. He was also keeping his midsection covered, as though Phil hadn’t been staring at it last night. It was clear what Dan’s level of comfort was right now, so out of courtesy, Phil went to his bedroom to slip on a bathrobe before making coffee.

Once it was done, said coffee was shared in silence as the two of them looked at their phones. Dan scrolled through twitter and began thinking it was past time to set up official social media for Dan Howell. He should have probably taken care of that before “Endless sorrow” was released, but better late than never.

“Did you want to go get breakfast somewhere?” Phil asked.

Dan avoided eye contact. “No, thanks… can you just take me home, Mr. Lester?”

Phil felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. It hurt to watch Dan put those walls back up so quickly. But on some level, he understood, and honestly it was probably for the best. They both knew that this, whatever it was, couldn’t continue. He wanted it as badly as Dan did, but that didn’t change reality.

“Okay,” he answered. “I’ll go get dressed.”

 

***

 

“You did what?!”

Phil hadn’t been looking forward to going into the office and facing his brother, but he needed to come clean and he really needed some advice from a grown-up on this. Sadly, their conversation was proving to be less than productive.

“Martyn, calm down.”

“I can’t calm down! You slept with Dan?!”

“Yes, but seriously, it--”

“There’s no 'but' about this, Phil! How could you do something so irresponsible?”

“It’s not like I was just taking advantage of some misguided kid. We weren’t using each other, it was… it wasn’t like that.”

Martyn sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, scrunching his face up in frustration. “You can’t do it again. Whatever is happening between you two, it has to end.”

“Don’t worry,” Phil said sadly. “I think it already has. I think Dan’s in agreement with you on that one.”

“But you’re not?” Martyn said more quietly, seeing Phil’s distress and trying to switch from “disciplinarian” big brother to “caring & supportive” big brother.

“I think… I think I’m in love with him.”

Martyn dropped his hands down to his sides. “Oh that’s just about brilliant, isn’t it?”

“Please stop.”

“Hey…” Martyn corrected his tone of voice, feeling bad about getting an attitude when Phil clearly needed him. But his little brother needed to hear the harsh truth of it all - that he couldn’t pursue someone whose job was dependent on him. He sighed, putting his hand on Phil’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Phil. That’s… that’s a tough break, it really is. But you’ll find love elsewhere. You’re a good looking bloke. In charge of a record label. You have a lot to offer the right person.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You’re still young. You have time. You’ll find someone. But for now… you’ve got to do your best to forget about him. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t, but you  _ can’t _ do anything with him anymore. Okay?”

Phil nodded. “Okay.”

 

***

 

Meanwhile, in his room, Dan was almost completely rewriting the lyrics to a song called “Instinct.” He and Phil had already decided to include the syncopated rock & roll song on the album, but now when Dan read the lyrics he found them… lacking. Originally, it had been about wanting sex. With Phil. It had been abstract and daydreamy for the most part. It put the idea of sleeping with Phil firmly in the realm of unrealistic dreams. It was a bucket list item at best. Now, though, the childish lyrics made Dan cringe.

The words he’d written accurately predicted that sex with Phil would be rather raunchy at times, but that was all he’d gotten right.

Dan had thought that sex with Phil would be this magical, transcendent thing that transported him to another universe. In reality, the act was legitimately intimate. It didn’t send Dan to heaven, it kept him grounded in a new version of reality; one that was brilliant and beautiful, where he felt he belonged for the first time in his entire life. It was like he and Phil were having a deep wordless conversation, getting to know one another’s most secret personality traits, not just enjoying the feeling of fucking and being fucked.

He thought he could probably could go his whole life not hearing Phil verbally say “I love you” if he could have  _ that _ again _. _ The love he felt when he was with Phil went far beyond what the English language was capable of expressing.

He knew it would probably never happen again, because it shouldn’t, but he really didn’t want to stop sleeping with Phil. He wanted to feel safe and cared for like that again. Not just once, but always.

So he wrote lyrics expressing that frustration. The song still had a wistful foundation, but it wasn’t so dreamy anymore.

 

***

 

“Hey Dean,” Phil said as his lawyer walked into his office.

“Good morning, Phil,” Dean answered, closing Phil’s office door behind him and taking a seat. “What was the big emergency that you needed to talk to me about?”

Phil took a breath. “Okay, so… say… just, for example… I slept with one of the artists.”

“With one of your artists?”

“Yes.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, making a “not bad” face, and smiled. “Good for you, I guess?” he said with a slight laugh.

“That’s it!?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Long as you’re both consenting adults, there’s no laws against it, strictly speaking.”

Phil threw his hands up. “Well… what sort of position have I put myself in here?”

“I don’t know, I don’t have cameras in your bedroom.”

“Very funny, Dean,” Phil said flatly, sitting down at his desk and looking hopeless. “I mean legally. Is this gonna come back to haunt me?”

Dean tilted his head and thought. “Technically, it is a potential workplace sexual harassment issue. But as long as you don’t give her an--”

“Him,” Phil corrected, resting his head on his desk.

“... _ him _ any special treatment, y’know, paying for more of his studio time than other artists would get, getting him better media appearance opportunities, putting more resources into his album or tour, then… you’re probably fine. And as long as Dan doesn’t feel slighted by you, you’re safe from him ever deciding to sue you. It does seem like kind of a narrow tightrope to walk, though, not gonna lie. If I were you I’d call it off, but that’s not my advice as your lawyer. That’s my advice as a person.”

Phil lifted his head again. “Wait, how’d you know it was Dan?”

“Come on, mate, you can’t seriously think no one’s noticed the heart eyes you two give each other.”

Phil was about to protest, but stopped himself. “Yeah, that’s fair,” Phil said. He took a breath and hesitated before continuing. “What um… what if I didn’t see sleeping with him as like… a casual thing?”

“You mean like you want a relationship with the guy?”

“I uh… yeah… I’m kind of in love with him.” Phil buried his face in his hand for a second.

“Well… I’m afraid that’s well outside my field of expertise, mate. A lot of the same rules would probably apply though.”

Phil nodded. “Thanks for your input anyway. Good to know I’m not going to get arrested or anything.”

“Oh no, far from it. Any prison you go to for this will be one of your own making.”

“Poetic.”

“Thanks. Was quite proud of that one.” Dean smiled proudly.

  
  


***

 

“Jack? It’s Daniel Howell.”

“Hello Mr. Howell, what can I do for you today?”

“I wanted some advice. Is it like, a serious legal problem if… I… sleptwithmyboss?”

“Well, not really. Were you consenting to it?”

“I’m the one who initiated it actually.”

“And are you planning on blackmailing him in any way?”

“What? No!”

“And are you expecting any special treatment for sleeping with him?”

“God, no. Never.”

“Well then, there’s no problem.”

“Oh.”

“But if you notice he is treating you special, whether in a good way or a bad way, you should probably break it off.”

“It’s already broken off. It uh... It was a mistake.”

“Alright. Well, if you notice he’s treating you especially  _ badly _ for breaking it off, give me a call, yeah? We’ll get it straightened out. Which is to say, we can threaten him with legal action.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Alright. I’ve got a client coming in to chat with me in 5, did you have any other questions?”

“No, I’m good for now, thanks.”

“Alright. Have a good day.”

“You too. Bye.”

 

***

 

**_@danhowellofficial_ ** _ so what’s this twitter thing all about then _

 

The truth was, Dan had been on twitter for ages. Just not in an official capacity. He and Sarah set this account up, as well as an official Facebook page. They used the promo images of him as angel with one wing from the “Endless sorrow” single shoot, which were in black and white and worked great for his brand as someone deep, thoughtful, and introspective.

Having nothing else to do (and having written the lyrics to 3 new songs already), he spent the rest of the day alone in his room building an official Tumblr theme for himself that could be easily edited. Given the label’s focus on brand and merchandising, Dan had the idea of re-theming his blog & social media accounts every time a new single was coming out in order to reinforce the brand of that release. Phil was all for it, of course, and updating Dan’s Twitter and Facebook the same way became one of Hazel’s first steady job duties.

There was a knock on his bedroom door. He checked the time. 5:00 PM.  _ That’ll be Nana calling me to help set the table, _ he thought. “Come in.”

Alice peeked her head inside. “How’re you doing, Daniel?”

“Good. Dinner soon?”

“Not just yet. I wanted to check up on you.” She walked in, confident as always.

“What’s up?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. Something’s different, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Dan made a show of shrugging his shoulders and plastering a smile on his face. “Everything’s fine!” He winced, remembering that even Chris was aware of Dan’s “fine” tell.

“It most certainly is not. But I won’t pry. I do hope you feel like you can come to me if you need to talk to someone, though.”

Dan let his fake smile fall away and he nodded slowly. “Actually… I mean, it feels weird talking to my grandma about something like this, but um… wait, mum’s not home, is she?”

“No, not yet. She’s still at therapy.”

“Okay, good. Uh-- wait, therapy?”

“Yes. She’ll talk to you about it when she gets home, I hope, but I finally got her to go.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Alice nodded.

“That’s… wow. That’s amazing, actually.”

“You were saying?”

“Oh, yeah, um… see… the thing is… I… slept with Phil.”

“Yes…?” Alice tilted her head forward, as though waiting for a “but” or an “and”.

“What?”

“You mean you hadn’t yet?”

Dan couldn’t help but laugh. “No, not until last night.”

“Really!?” Alice seemed positively scandalized by the notion that her grandson hadn’t been sleeping with his producer this entire time.

“What, do you think I couldn’t have a successful entertainment career without fucking my producer?”

“Oh, language, Daniel. And  _ of course _ I don’t think that. It’s just that whenever I see him dropping you off here, he looks at you, like… Well, like he loves you.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t love me.”

“He most certainly does!”

“How can you possibly tell that?”

“Because  _ I _ love you, and we know our own.”

Dan shook his head, smiling. “You make it sound like there’s this whole huge tribe of people out there who love me that I don’t know about.”

“There is!” Alice said, sitting on the end of Dan’s bed and facing him. “And that group will only get bigger. You’re something special, Daniel. There are so many people who are lost, just as you were until two years ago. And I think you were put on this earth to make those people feel like they belong somewhere. And that Phil was put on this earth to find you so you could do that.”

Dan looked down and shook his head. “Phil shouldn’t be wasting his time on me.”

Alice tilted her head and frowned, worried. “Daniel, angel, what happened last night?”

“I don’t know,” Dan said through tears. “It was wonderful, Nana. He was better than I could have dreamed. But then this morning, I don’t know what happened… I just… I got scared.”

“Why?”

“Because of dad,” Dan explained. “And Michelle. And Markus. And Joey.” Dan nearly started sobbing as the memories of them came back. A car accident. An international move. A suicide. “I lose people, Nana. I always lose people. Maybe I’m cursed or something. Or maybe that’s just like, life. You know? Maybe life is just a series of people we lose, I don’t know.” Dan let the sobs escape, no longer strong enough to hold them back. “But he has so many reasons to not be with me, you know? Good reasons. He’s my boss, you know? It’s complicated. He could toss me out at any moment. So I don’t want to get close to him, Nana. I don’t want to trust him and then have to feel the pain of losing him.”

Alice wrapped her arms around Dan, resting her chin on his head as he cried. She breathed out a calming “shh” while rubbing his back. “I don’t think he’d ever betray your trust, my little angel. I wish I could say you won’t ever lose him at all, but the truth is, someday you might. I sadly can’t tell the future.” She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “But if you’re so scared of losing him, that means  _ he’s worth having. _ Even if something isn’t forever, it still matters and it can still be a moment of beauty. Let yourself have this moment.”

Dan nodded. She was right. He knew that.

“But I’m still so scared of getting close to him again.”

“Give yourself time. It’s okay if it takes you awhile. It’s hard to face our fears, so forgive yourself for needing to ease yourself into it. Okay?”

“Okay.” Dan sniffled and rubbed his nose with his sleeve.

“Oh don’t do that, you silly boy.” Alice handed Dan a tissue, and they laughed a bit. “I’ll need you for dinner in about 20 minutes. You feeling up to eating something?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. Catch your breath, wash your face and hands. You’ll feel better once you do, I promise.”

Dan smiled. “Thanks, Nana.”

Alice gave him a wink as she left the room.

  
  


***

 

Dan was obsessed with using real instrumentation on his album whenever possible rather than relying on synthesized versions. Using synth for sound effects and intentionally digital instruments didn’t bother him, but he hated hearing the tinny, textureless “fake” instruments that were becoming so common in pop music. Dan thought those songs, which sounded little better than demos, sounded unfinished. Some of them were still acceptably catchy, sure, but he wanted better than that for his own work.

Phil had every right to be frustrated by this, but to Dan’s surprise and delight, he admired it. He’d been perfectly happy to pay for hourly time at a real studio that had the space for session musicians to play real, actual instruments. 

Phil was glad he did, because given recent events, it was probably best  _ not _ to be alone with Dan in his makeshift home studio right now.

“Alright, you’re in the studio for five hours today,” Phil said as they walked down the hall from the entrance to the studio proper, “and another three hours are scheduled for tomorrow. See how much you can get finished. Some of the backing tracks are close enough to done for you to sing over them today and tomorrow, others will have to wait for a future session.”

“Only some are ready?” Dan asked grumpily. “I mean I wasn’t expecting them to be  _ completely _ done yet, that’d be insane, but they’re not even done enough for me to sing over them?”

“Yeah, some of them like… um, I think ‘Instinct’ and ‘Monochrome’ and… I know ‘Surreal’ is one of them… they aren’t fully together yet.”

“What’s taking them so long?” Dan asked.

“Piano and keyboard are some of the core instruments for them, but the pianist I’ve been using is out of town, some sort of family emergency, and I haven’t--”

“Why didn’t you say something? I play piano. I can do it.”

Phil blinked. “You play piano?”

“Yeah. I thought you knew that! Where did you think the piano part in ‘Endless sorrow’ came from? I didn’t just buy a loop, I gave you that piano part because I’d done it on my keyboard at home already.”

“Oohhh,” Phil said, the rather confusing ‘use this file’ exchange from a few months ago suddenly making much more sense. “...You can  _ seriously _ play piano?”

Dan was just laughing at this point. “Yes! I mean I’m not like, some incredible talent or anything, and I can’t read music so I have to play by ear, but those songs are fairly simple. I can lay down their piano parts no problem.”

“Uh… okay then, um… Lemme talk to the engineer and see if we can swing that.”

Phil headed into the engineering booth and shook hands with the guy manning the mixing board. He appeared very laid back, and while Dan couldn’t hear what they were saying, it looked like a friendly exchange. The engineer made a surprised face and glanced in Dan’s direction. He leaned over the board and pressed a button.

“Hey Dan, I’m Tom.”

“Hey Tom,” Dan said into the microphone.

“We’re gonna get an upright wheeled in here for you, will that work?”

“Should work just fine, thank you.”

“Alright, hang tight.”

 

***

 

“Mr. Lester?” Dan called.

Phil leaned over the board and hit the button to talk. “Yes?”

“It’s been ages since I played a proper piano rather than my keyboard, and it feels completely different, so... can we do one of the songs that’s almost done? Just so I can sort of… get a feel for this again.”

“Sure,” Phil replied. “Which one did you want to go with?”

Dan thought for a moment. “Do we have ‘A Song for…’ on the laptop?”

“Yeah. Want to do that one?”

“Yeah.”

Dan fixed his seating posture and started playing random keys, trying to get a feel for where the notes were. He played a few chords, improvised a few melodies, and found it was like riding a bike. He got back into the swing of things quickly.

“Okay,” he said, “I think I’m ready for playback.”

“Recording,” Tom said, hitting a few buttons.

Dan adjusted the Sennheisers that covered his ears as the piano-less instrumental track for “A Song for…” began to play, the click of a metronome overlaid on top of it.

Watching from the engineering board, Phil hummed the melody of the song to himself as Dan played the piano part, which was very simple. Phil made a mental note to make sure it didn’t get buried in the mix later. His eyes held their gaze intently as Dan’s arms and fingers moved. It struck him as tragically frustrating that someone with such an excellent sense of rhythm and timing couldn’t dance without running out of breath. Dan’s playing was so confident looking. He knew exactly which keys to hit and how powerfully to. He knew when to use the pedals. He wasn’t playing anything complex, but he looked so capable and sure of himself when he was playing music. It was a far cry from the submissive personality he often projected when they were out. And during sex.

Phil closed his eyes and shook it off.

 

***

 

When Dan recorded the vocals for “Instinct” later that afternoon, Phil found that successfully shaking off the memory of sleeping with him was insanely difficult. The song had lyrics he wasn’t expecting, which tricked his brain into actually listening rather than merely hearing a familiar sequence of words.

He approached Dan as he exited the vocal booth and came out to the engineering area with him and Tom. “When did you write those lyrics?” Phil asked. “Weren’t they different before?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dan said nonchalantly. “I rewrote them yesterday. Wasn’t feeling the original lyrics. Things changed.”

“When?”

“Two nights ago.” Dan wasn’t making eye contact with Phil. “Why, are you mad these new lyrics hadn’t gotten your approval yet?”

“No, that’s not it--”

“Then don’t worry about it,” Dan interrupted him. “Can you play it back for me, Tom?”

“You got it.”

Dan listened to the song from the beginning. 

 

_ I just want to be with you tonight… _

_ I know that you wanna be in my bed... _

 

“Those first two lines should have a distortion filter on them...” he thought aloud.

Tom smirked and looked at Phil. “Which of you two is the producer?” he laughed. 

 

_ "Sun," "moon," "air," "ocean," and "wind" _

_ Why can't those words be enough for us? _

_ Yeah I know that you’re just as lonely as I am _

_ And if we are licking each other's wounds... _

 

Dan suddenly spoke. “Shit, I need to take that again. I was off.”

“You were off?” Tom said, confused.

“Yeah, I was off.”

“We have pitch correction, we can take care of that,” he offered, even though he didn’t hear what Dan was talking about.

“It’s a different kind of off, it’s like… emotionally off. The segue from when I’m singing lower to when I bring it up, it’s… not right. I gotta do it again after this listen through this.”

“Okay.”

 

_ Sorry for the way I change my mind _

_ Please darling don't say I'm too late, tell me I’ve gotta move _

_ Push yourself, go deeper into me _

_ Call my name to wake up my instincts, yeah, make them come alive _

 

“Do you think I sound desperate enough, Mr. Lester?” Dan asked. The unasked question, Dan’s real question, was “do I sound as desperate as I sounded two nights ago?”

“Sorry?” Phil replied, blushing.

“In the chorus, just then.” Dan looked at Phil, attempting a facial expression that was cold and focused but, to Phil, just looked kind of… seductive. “Did I sound desperate enough to you? I worry it just sounds strained.”

“Um… it sounds desperate.”  _ Yes, this does adequately remind me of when you were on your knees in front of me. _

“Good.”

Dan went back to listening.

 

_ Mm, in the end I'll just die alone anyway _

_ So if this is just a stop on the way _

_ I'd prefer to die knowing that I lived my truth _

_ And the truth is that I'd die for your eyes... _

  
  


***

 

“You’ve got some extra time if you wanna play anything,” Tom said. “Record a cover song to use as a b-side, start on one of the other songs for the album, up to you.”

The songs Phil had scheduled for the day were all completed, and Dan still had half an hour left of his studio time. He looked over at the piano. He hadn’t just played around, whether learning a song or improvising, in ages. He had to admit that the prospect of returning to this source of happiness for the first time in years did call to him.

“Yeah, maybe,” Dan muttered.

He faced the piano keys and hit one note, then moved up the keyboard and played two notes at once. He liked the harmony it created. He tried another two notes, then a chord, then another. He tilted his head, and returned to a couple chords he’d played earlier, pairing them together, then playing them in sequence. Then again. This was an original thing, he realized. It was very basic and repetitive, but oddly hypnotic, and it was  _ his. _ He thought about his emotions over the last two days, and realized that this chromatic lull sounded as trapped as he felt.

Without thinking about it, he started singing.

 

_ Staring at the numbers on the readout _

_ Only serves to mess with me, stress me out. _

_ My hair’s wet from washing you out, _

_ The night air has me shivering. _

 

_ My window’s open, but you’re not out there. _

_ You’re not Romeo, I’m not Juliet. _

_ I’m waiting for my phone to ring, _

_ You’re just waiting for me to sing. _

 

Dan hit the keys harder and let his voice crescendo into something that resembled a chorus for this song he was improvising. It reminded him of when he was writing the lyrics to “A Song for…”; he just  _ felt _ and let the words flow out of him. He found it easy.

 

_ But over and over, when I close my eyes, _

_ I imagine that I hear your tone... _

_ And suddenly I’m awake. How dare the sun rise. _

_ Time is a reckless driver... _

 

He returned to the cycle of chromatic chords, adding a few stray notes high up on the piano as he thought of what to say next. Bringing back the imagery from the second half of that first “verse” in order to illustrate how his feelings had shifted was easy enough.

 

_ Now I close my window, no one’s out there. _

_ You’re not Romeo, I’m not Juliet. _

_ I’m waiting for my phone to ring, _

_ But you’re just paying me to sing. _

 

He crescendoed again.

 

_ But over and over, when I drift away, _

_ I get overtaken by nightmares. _

_ So I’m tossing and I’m turning, watching the moon above. _

_ Time is a reckless driver. _

 

He stopped his original chords and breathed. The whole point of playing just to play was to do this thing that had brought him happiness years ago, and yet as he played, all he could think of was Phil. Forcing himself to think of  _ anything _ else, he started playing a bit of a Mozart piece he’d learned years ago. 

It didn’t work.

Frustrated, he slammed on the keys and cut back into his own song, repeating parts of the choruses which were somehow still fresh in his mind. He was nearly yelling now.

 

_ But over and over, when I close my eyes, _

_ I imagine that I hear your tone. _

_ And over and over, when I drift away, _

_ I get overtaken by nightmares. _

_ Yeah over and over and again and again, _

_ Your face spins around in my head... _

_ And suddenly I’m awake. How dare the sun rise. _

 

Decrescendo.

 

_ Time is a reckless driver… _

 

He continued the cycle of repeating chromatic chords, adding a short run of improvised vocalizations. Then he let the chords slowly break down, degenerating into angry slams on the piano keys. He hit one final chord, near the very bottom of the keyboard’s range, and started crying silently as he held the keys down.

_ Fuck. _

_ Why does it always have to fucking come back to Phil? _

The final chord finally faded to silence.

“You okay there?” Tom’s voice suddenly rang out.

Dan gasped, his face reddening quickly.  _ Shit. I forgot he was there. _

“Uh, yeah,” Dan said.

“What’s that called? Never heard that song before.”

“Um… ‘Time is a reckless driver,’ I guess.”

“That one of yours?”

“It uh… it is now, I suppose? I just sorta… just sorta made it up.”

Tom laughed. “I guess that’s true of anything a musician writes.”

“Yeah, but this one’s kind of a mess since it was so spur-of-the-moment, sorry.”

“Wait, you made that up on the spot just now? Like… as you went?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean,  _ some _ of the words were things I’ve written down in this journal of mine, but not all of them. And I hadn’t ever, like… put them together before. Why?”

“Because it wasn’t a mess, it was amazing. I’m really glad I was recording that.”

Dan’s eyes widened a bit. “You were? Oh god. Um.” Dan shrugged. “It’s not perfect.”

“They never are to you,” Phil’s voice said.

Dan looked at Phil through the window into Tom’s workspace. He wiped the tears away from his eyes, regretting that Phil had seen them in the first place.  _ I wish you could leave me alone, _ he thought.

“Were you in there the whole time?” Dan asked.

“Yeah, I was sitting back in the corner. Did you not see me?”

Dan shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be all… sneaky ninja.”

Endeared, but trying hard to hide it, Dan shrugged. Just like he usually did these days.

“As your producer,” Phil said, “I feel like I should advise you here… that song was really good. We should use it. We can tweak it a bit so it sounds closer to your definition of perfect, if you like.”

“It would take a lot of tweaking,” Dan said with a bittersweet laugh.

“No, it wouldn’t. It’s honest. It’s raw. It’s what we wanted for your image to begin with, remember? Dark and brooding?” Phil shot Dan a smile that was too warm to be real, and Dan found himself wanting to agree with everything Phil said.

“Yeah,” Dan said. He was clearly still recovering from the performance anxiety he didn’t know he should have been feeling, but he had thoughts about the song’s production and he couldn’t help but let the work side of his brain push through the stagefright. “Okay. I want to put some drums on this though. You’re right about the rawness, it should stay imperfect, yeah? So um… the drums should be like accents, not like a steady rhythm through the whole thing. I mean… The rhythm isn’t steady anyway, so that’d be silly to try and do, ‘cause, like… there are pauses when I was trying to think of the right word, and… yeah.”

Phil nodded. “Agreed. We’ll get a drummer in here to do that.”

  
  


***

  
  


Instinct

Lyrics: Dan Howell

 

(I just want to be with you tonight…)  
(I know that you wanna be in my bed…)

You don't need to promise me a thing  
Not like if you did you could keep it anyway, so don't  
I just wanna tie myself to you  
Wanna find a place where the morning light never shines through

If there weren't so many words  
Don't you think this'd be easier?  
"Sun," "moon," "air," "ocean," and "wind"  
Why can't those words be enough for us?

Yeah I know that you’re just as lonely as I am  
And if we are licking each other's wounds  
Nobody can really say anything about it  
But when I bared myself, I had some doubts

Sorry for the way I change my mind  
Please darling don't say I'm too late, tell me I’ve gotta move  
Push yourself, go deeper into me  
Call my name to wake up my instincts, yeah, make them come alive

Moonlight made me want to say  
That I don't care about a thing  
How people categorize  
each other's nothing to worry 'bout

Mm, in the end I'll just die alone anyway  
So if this is just a stop on the way  
I'd prefer to die knowing that I lived my truth  
And the truth is that I'd die for your eyes

You don't need to promise me a thing  
Not like if you did you could keep it anyway, so don't  
I just wanna tie myself to you  
Wanna find a place where the morning light never shines through

Sorry for the way I change my mind  
Please darling don't tell me I'm too late, tell me to move  
Push yourself, go deeper into me  
Call my name to wake up my instincts, yeah, make them come alive...

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title and the songs included are both by Sheena Ringo.
> 
> "Instinct" is based on her insanely huge hit ["Honnou (Instinct)".](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECxBHhMc7oI)
> 
> "Time is a Reckless Driver" is based on her song ["toki ga bousou suru".](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uzVP3enoiQM)
> 
> [Like or share this chapter on Tumblr](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177071073593/the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1250)


	13. Interview: Stoicism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan talks to Shane about his mother, the cover of his first album, and Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another interview chapter! This one explains a lot about some things that have only been subtly nodded to or briefly mentioned before. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Give this chapter a cheeky reblog on tumblr if you like :D](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177152170663/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1350)
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Can I ask about your mother?” Shane asked.

“Oh yes, please do,” Dan replied. “She was kind enough to give me permission to talk about her in more detail. She’s, as you might expect, very proud of the progress she’s made.”

“Actually that’s what I wanted to ask about. Because, like, in interviews you often cite her as a big influence on your life, as someone you respect very deeply. And yet today, the way you’ve talked about her…”

“It doesn’t come across very well, does it?”

“No!” Shane laughed, somewhat nervously.

“Well, the thing is… she started going to therapy around the time I was working on the album. And at the time I didn’t know what the… like… catalyst or the trigger was for her doing that, but basically… Nana had just gotten sick. They didn’t know how bad it was, so they hadn’t talked to me about it yet. But… Nana… she talked to my mum and gave her a sort of ‘I won’t be around forever’ talk. She said ‘I can’t be there for Daniel forever. Even if I beat this, this time round, y’know,  _ eventually _ I won’t be here to help him anymore.  _ You _ need to be there. And as you are right now, you can’t be, and you need to figure yourself out.’ So, like… My mum was still kind of in denial that she had any mental health issues that needed real attention, and she  always took it as a personal insult whenever anyone asked if she was okay, you know? But as soon as Nana got sick, it was like… ‘holy shipbuilding christ, I can’t keep being like this.’ And... it was absolutely this, like, fear of abandonment that my mum had. And understandably so, given how her marriage ended. Whenever I made progress toward being independent or being my own person she’d, like, freak out. Which made it so hard for me to feel like I was allowed to be myself. I felt for years like… like since my dad was gone, I’d have to be the man of the house or whatever. Which meant, like… I had to be more masculine, yeah. But also like everything I did had to be something she approved of. I tried to balance that with doing what I knew I was good at, but like… the whole time I was at modeling school I felt guilty. The whole time I was at Moonlight I felt like what happened to me there was some cosmic punishment for not doing what my mum wanted me to do. If Nana hadn’t been around to keep her in check, I… honestly… I don’t know.”

“So once she started going to therapy, that improved? Like, her fear of you becoming independent and sort of leaving her behind?”

“I’d love to say it was an immediate change. It did take a long time. But once she started going, she did start, like, working on her temper issues. Because her temper was terrible. She was never violent but she would yell and stomp around and be very passive-aggressive at times. She could absolutely tear you apart verbally if she was angry enough at you.”

“Would you consider it abuse, the things she said and did?”

Dan thought for a moment. “I don’t feel like she was an abusive parent. I feel like she was a woman who cared very much about the people closest to her, but she couldn’t show that love properly without addressing this very legitimate health condition she had. And I know I can confidently say I feel that way because nowadays,  _ that _ woman, the woman I’ve been talking about up to this point, is a distant memory. Honestly, moving out did help, I won’t deny that. I think getting away from her and being around people who were more complimentary and more supportive really helped repair my sense of self while she was doing the work to repair hers.”

“How did moving out go over with her? Not well, I’d imagine.”

“No, not well. But Nana was there to help calm her down, and that made it as easy as it could have been. My mum needed reassurance that I couldn’t give her, and her mum was able to do that.”

“How has your mother been since you moved out?”

“It ended up being very beneficial to both of us, I think. She ended up realizing she didn’t need to live for me either. Because that was what she’d been doing, working all those jobs that were getting her nowhere in life, you know? Once I was financially independent, she realized she could do what she wanted. She could take risks, you know? So as soon as she didn’t have to take care of me or Nana anymore, she started her own business. She’s got a gift shop in central London, and it’s been doing well for a few years now. She’s got a dog to help with how lonely it can be. She’s found freedom in being on her own, and without therapy there’s no way she could have gotten to that point.”

“That’s really incredible to hear.” Shane pulled out a copy of Dan’s first album,  _ Stoicism, _ and propped it up on the table between them. “Alright, now, topic change!”

“Oh no,” Dan laughed. “Look at that baby face! Oh my god. I’m a fetus.”

“You were absolutely adorable. Still are!” Shane flashed a cheesy grin at Dan, who was blushing. “But oh my god, early Dan Howell, the cutest.”

“Thank you,” Dan said politely, lightly gnawing at the pad of his thumb, smiling all the while.

“So, the cover art for  _ Stoicism _ was always really interesting to me. Can you tell us about it?”

“Yes, so… I wanted to do this sort of statement about not really knowing people, whether they’re public figures or just work acquaintances or even family sometimes, you know? There’s a certain amount of ourselves, a certain range of emotion that we feel we’re allowed to show. And that’s different from person to person or from situation to situation. But, so... my brand is very, y’know, real, honest, et cetera. But there was always a very thick façade covering the real me. The best metaphor I could think of for that was makeup. So since this album is representative of, like, people getting to know the real me, at least to some degree, the makeup is this plastic overlay that you see covering up my face when you haven’t opened the album yet. But once you have it in your hands and take it home and open it up, that plastic isn’t part of the booklet. You take the booklet out, and you see my more natural face underneath.”

“And that concept was your idea?”

“Yes.”

“Not Phil’s?”

“No.”

“Hm. And why makeup, why not use clothes for the metaphor?”

Dan burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I love that you asked this question! Yeah, that was actually one of the ideas I thought of. I’m sure I’ve got a note or an e-mail to Phil somewhere about it, we did talk about doing that. But yeah, I thought of doing clothes, and then someone at the label… I forget who, maybe Martyn? But they pointed out that I’d have to be naked under the overlay for it to work, which would necessitate, like… a nude photo shoot and… I was fine with doing that as long as we didn’t show my back, or if we did we retouched out the scars, yeah? But Phil was having absolutely  _ none _ of that. He was not in favor of that idea whatsoever.”

“At least not yet.”

“No, not yet. Well, to be honest, he never really was. But eventually he had far less of a say in what I did so I did what I wanted to do, so. Yeah. Actually, it ended up working out better because going the direction of, y’know, clothed versus nude, that would have required taking the photos twice in exactly the same position, once with clothing and once without, and that… really would have been kind of a pain, to be honest. But with makeup, like, that can be just Photoshopped on. Which it was.”

“So you didn’t actually put on makeup for this photo?”

“No, we had a graphic designer Photoshop it on there. And if you’re familiar with Photoshop, you know that art is done in layers? That makeup was basically drawn as a layer to get the positioning right and then, y’know, saved and printed by itself onto the plastic.”

“That’s really funny to me because this album art really sort of made you, like… known for doing makeup.”

“Well I  _ did _ do makeup for the photos inside, since they’re literally photos of me putting on makeup and taking it off. There wasn’t an effect to worry about inside, so there’s no Photoshop there beyond the usual color correction type stuff. Even the blemishes I had and the redness, that’s all left intact in there. I was a bit shy about it, but it turned out really powerful, I think.”

“But even people who didn’t own the album and who didn’t look inside were still really happy that you were wearing makeup on the cover. Since that’s the most public thing, that meant a lot to them.”

“Yeah people were really celebrating that, weren’t they? It made a lot of people feel very validated that I’d put this out there into the world, my name on it. I honestly didn’t realize it’d be such a huge thing, plenty of singers and musicians wear makeup. But they typically go more glam with it, whereas, y’know, this is more… just… makeup. Like what any average woman might wear to work. Not totally natural, but I didn’t go all crazy with it. It’s not really a nighttime look, it’s a day-to-day sort of look. So I had no idea it would be such a big deal! But the fact that it’s relatively understated seems to have been what people found so unique about it. So once it was out there and people responded so positively, Phil and I sort of thought, y’know, if that’s part of my brand now, and people have latched onto it, then let’s commit. So when I was doing photo shoots for magazines later, we just… did makeup. So that way there’d be more out there, publicly, of me doing that for real. And for that stuff I did often go a bit more ‘nighttime’ look. Colors that matched my clothes more, stuff that was a bit more date night looking, that sort of stuff. Slightly more glam, though I wouldn’t call it glam necessarily. Just… feminine? I guess? I feel like that’s still the wrong word but it’s the closest thing I can think of.”

“Was that, like… weird?”

“Um…” Dan looked up to think, choosing his words carefully. “It was weird for me personally, but only at first. I’d only ever really thought of makeup for men as like... stage makeup, to be honest. But I remembered when I was at Moonlight and modeling school, my friends who identified as male would say things like ‘I wish it was acceptable for me to wear makeup all the time, it’s covering my acne so well’ and things like that, you know? So remembering that, like, I started to think more like ‘I’m really lucky I can wear makeup and cover the flaws and make my eyes pop more and make my lips sexier’ and stuff like that. Like, I’m in this very fortunate position where people not only like that I’m doing this, but it makes  _ them _ feel more free and more like they can be themselves and express themselves how they want.”

“That’s really awesome because, like… I know I wish it were more acceptable for me to just, like, go to the grocery store with concealer on, you know?” Shane laughed. “But yeah, you looked great. You still do. Your look is more natural these days, though.”

“Yeah, I’m more minimalist about it. I’ll put on makeup when I leave the house if I’m feeling kind of gross or if I didn’t get enough sleep, but it’s usually just… foundation, concealer, maybe some cherry chapstick or something so I don’t look dead.  _ Maybe _ mascara if I’m feeling particularly flirty,” Dan added with a smile. “Just enough to feel like I look… like how I imagine I look in my head, really.”

“Any plans to return to the glam look anytime soon?”

“No real plans, but nothing against it. If my next album has a more glam sort of concept, of course I’ll go glam with the look. But these days I’m trying to be… as honest as everyone always thought I was before, I guess. And that includes how I dress and look and everything.”

“Okay so, next question… Well, before I ask, Phil  _ seriously _ didn’t know you played piano?”

“No! I don’t know how he missed it! Maybe I forgot to tell him it was me playing on ‘Endless sorrow’ or something?”

“That’s actually really hilarious, that even after having slept with you he still had some fairly basic knowledge about you that he didn’t know.”

“And he still had plenty more to learn about me,” Dan confirmed. “But he knew what I liked in bed, I can tell you that for sure.” Dan took a sip of his water, partly because he needed it and partly to hide the lower half of his blushing face.

Shane laughed. “Oh my! Well, I’m not gonna ask for any details, but… Let me just say, oh how I wish I could.”

Dan laughed. “Yeah. Yeah you do. I’ve spent a big part of this interview making Phil look like an incompetent ass but let me tell you… there are some things that he is  _ not _ incompetent at.”

Shane turned to look in Phil’s direction. “Look at him over there, he’s blushing,” he said casually.

Dan smiled fondly and shook his head. “You are gonna need to cut that bit out of the interview. That’s just for us.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not really into the idea of getting sued by Phil Lester,” Shane laughed. “But back to the actual question I was going to ask… how much did your relationship with him influence the lyrics on the album, and how much of the album was based on past experiences?”

Dan thought for a moment. “I think… about half the album was about him. Maybe more. Nearly every song that sounds like it’s about a relationship or sex or unrequited love is about him.”

“Wow. That’s one of those things that fans theorized, but honestly I did  _ not _ expect confirmation of that. Wow, just… wow. So, do you have any songs you regret putting on the album?”

“Nothing I regret because of the lyrics, no. There aren’t any songs that I regret releasing. I do feel like ‘Endless sorrow’ shouldn’t have been on the album though. I feel like it pads the album out, but you can tell it was recorded earlier. It doesn’t really ‘go.’”

“What’s an underrated song from the album that you’re particularly proud of?”

“Oh god, the title track. Absolutely. It’s just so quirky. That’s one of the ones that Phil actually produced. Like, he has producer credit on the whole thing, but he just let me do whatever for most of it. He’d tell me to take credit but I refused, to me he was still producing it. But he was rarely as hands-on as he was with ‘Stoicism.’ And that one turned out really cool. That was literally just us sitting in his tiny home studio, bent over his laptop, taking random samples from stuff that I’d already recorded, and… like… y’know.”

“Just messing around with it,” Shane offered.

“Yeah. It was just a creative, fun little thing. I recorded some extra vocals for it and... the ‘lyrics,’ if you can call them that, are crazy simple and they seem totally random but that was also, y’know, a message to Phil hidden in plain sight really.”

“So then after the album came out, you started working on your merchandise and the tour, correct?”

“No, we started on that before the album’s release. We started working on merch… pretty much around the same time as we were working on the package design. Because we wanted it all to work together. We didn’t have the cash to start making collector’s editions of the album yet, but we did make merch that fit in with that ‘hidden self’ theme so there was a lot of, like… like the makeup mirror, the sleep mask, the necklace, the journal. That sort of thing.”

“And your t-shirt designs were really cool.”

“Thank you. I was really nervous about those.”

“Oh, did you design those?”

“Yes. I had some help from the designer who worked on the album, but the conceptualization of it was me, and I guess I kind of art directed it. I, like, put it together in Photoshop and then the professional designer cleaned it up and made it print-ready, really. Yeah.”

“So what can’t you do?” Shane said.

Dan laughed. “Apparently I can’t hear compliments without blushing like a freakin’... I don’t know. Words are hard.”

“Oh my god, you just keep getting cuter. Okay, so anyway, the tour.”

“Oh god. Here we go.”

“You know who I’m gonna ask about.”

Dan sighed. “Yeah.”

“Let’s talk about the tour, and…”

“And my ex-husband, yes.” Dan nodded and took a breath.  _ This is going to be  _ so _ much fun. _

  
***  
  


Stoicism

Lyrics: Dan Howell  
Music: Dan Howell, Phil Lester

(em hcuot dna yaw thgir eht tsuj ni eman ym llac) 

lalalala you are you are  
lulululu pretty pretty  
do si la so fa  
lalalala lovely lovely  
lulululu hate you hate you  
do si la so fa so

(bring it here, yeah?)

(accelerate accelerate brake brake  
accelerate accelerate brake brake  
accelerate accelerate brake brake  
parking)

(smaercs gniyfirret htiw evol ni llaf t'nod)

lalalala you're strong you're strong  
lulululu pretty pretty  
do si la so fa  
lalalala i'm weak i'm weak  
lulululu hate you hate you  
do si la so fa

lalalala you are you are  
lulululu pretty pretty  
do si la so fa  
lalalala lovely lovely  
lulululu hate you hate you  
do si la  
re si re

(you okay?)

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real song, a quirky weird mess that I love, "Stoicism" by Sheena Ringo: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCXBzuV7CEA>
> 
> The song has a few lines that she sings backwards syllable by syllable, they aren't played backwards as the end-of-chapter lyrics imply here. In the real world, the lines in question are from one of her songs, "Crime & Punishment (tsumi to batsu)," which is about an apparently doomed love with another rock star. In the world of this fic, these are words Dan probably wrote in his journal once, nothing more.
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's the story link on tumblr!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177152170663/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1350)


	14. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil have an awkward night in a hotel right before Dan's first solo TV appearance. Then, Dan finds an auditioning dancer cute, much to Phil's dismay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly I'm not nuts about my writing in this chapter, but I love the drama of it. I hope you like it too.
> 
> (I updated twice in as many days, which is fast for me, so if you haven't read Chapter 13 yet make sure you have!!)
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's the tumblr link for Chapter 14.](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177191742358/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1450)

“Top 5!” Everyone cheered.

Celebratory drinks this time were had at a much more upscale place. It was a proper bar with dim lighting accented by purple neon glowing out from behind mirrors on the walls. It was rather tacky, and the drinks were expensive, but Dan wasn’t paying so he didn’t care.

Thanks primarily to “Endless sorrow” and “Instinct” being played on heavy rotation on BBC Radio 1 (thanks to a particularly helpful DJ who adored Dan’s music),  _ Stoicism _ debuted at number 4 on iTunes and at number 5 on Billboard UK’s Hot Albums chart. It was a level of success no one at Lester Music had anticipated, and the company was already signing more artists and bringing on more help. Hazel got promoted to Artist Management Associate, and continued shadowing Phil as he worked with Dan.

“Go on, Dan, say something!” urged Cornelia, one of the new artists signed. Normally Dan would be grumpy in the face of someone urging him to speak to a group, but her friendly demeanor made it hard for him to refuse. He smiled and stood up awkwardly, facing the group of tables the Lester Music party were using.

“Um, wow, okay…” Dan made eye contact with Phil first, and then drifted around the group. “I know I haven’t been the easiest to work with. I know I’ve been a massive perfectionist and I’ve been unsure about… well, literally everything. But you all helped make this album something truly great, and you helped get the word out, and I can’t thank you enough.” As Dan thanked individual members of the team, they would nod and raise their glasses in response. “Louise, honestly, if you hadn’t helped with my makeup for the booklet photos I would not be here right now. Tom, you’re the best studio engineer ever. You really helped me create the best possible recordings. You’re a treasure. Martyn, the greatest marketer ever put on this Earth. I don’t even know how, but for some reason, people know my name! And it’s a top 5 album so... I don’t know what you did but you did it. And... Phil.” Dan realized he’d called Phil by his first name and hesitated a moment, looking Phil in the eye again. Dan acknowledged to himself that Phil wasn’t ‘Mr. Lester’ right now. It wasn’t time to thank his producer for the work he’d done. He was thanking his friend for believing in him. “What can I say? Thank you. For believing in me, for helping me, for being my friend no matter how much I acted like I didn’t need one... for everything.” Dan finally lifted his glass. “It feels odd to say this so excitedly, but… to  _ Stoicism!” _

The group called out “To  _ Stoicism!” _ and glass met glass in the air. Dan sat back down, relieved he was done speaking.

“And if I may,” Phil said, standing up. “I’d like to formally announce that auditions for Dan Howell’s 2012 UK Tour are officially underway! And at least one familiar face has already come aboard. Sadly he couldn’t make it this evening, but I can now let you all know that Chris Kendall is officially a backup singer for the tour.” The majority of the team gave some polite applause, but Dan was beaming.

“Really?” he said excitedly, his wide eyes reminding everyone that he was still only 20 years old.

“Yes,” Phil nodded, sitting down in his seat directly across from Dan. “Normally I would’ve had you watch his audition first but you know how he sings and you know his voice works well with yours, so I just signed him on.”

“That’s awesome! How’s he been? I know Kickthestickz is on a hiatus to do whatever. Is this Chris’ ‘whatever,’ then?”

“It is. And PJ is apparently really happy making videos for The Atlantis Times right now. You should have him make one of yours.”

“I don’t know, his quirky aesthetic is a bit too abstract for some of my stuff.”

“He could do a video for ‘Private Life,’ don’t you think?”

“Sure, but that song isn’t very representative of the rest of the album. Wouldn’t make a good promotional track.”

“No, I suppose not.”

Dan sipped his drink quietly, watching and observing the rest of the table. This was his preferred way of interacting with others if he absolutely had to go out. Not really interacting at all; merely watching.  _ This _ was how he got to know people, not so much by talking to them.

“You look really good tonight,” Phil suddenly said.

Dan, mid-drink, gave him a look. He set his glass down on the table. “Thanks,” he said with a fake, uneasy smile. “Louise does a good job.”

“Even if you didn’t have makeup on though,” Phil said, “you’d still look really amazing.”

“Yeah, well,” Dan says dismissively, “this low lighting is good for my complexion.”

Phil could tell his compliments were unwelcome, so he left it at that.

“Oh, Mr. Lester, while I’m thinking about it,” Dan said, leaning forward a bit, his eyes getting their sparkle back. “What time am I meeting you at the office tomorrow?”

“Whenever’s convenient for you,” Phil said. “We can’t do much once we get to Manchester until it’s time to check in to the hotel anyway, so there’s no point in being early.”

In two days, Dan would be on BBC Breakfast performing two songs from the album and giving a short interview. It was Dan’s biggest promotional appearance so far, being his first time on television on his own and his first time on a nationwide broadcast as opposed to something local. Radio had been one thing, but this was a huge deal. It was entirely possible that the album could reach number 1 if he did well.

“Hazel is coming, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Dan nodded in acknowledgment, glad she’d be present because it might keep him on his best behavior. “Oh, um… What two songs am I doing?”

“Well, ‘Endless sorrow’ for sure, since that was your big debut single. We need to make sure people realize that  _ that _ song is by you. I would say ‘Instinct’ for the second song, but I’m not sure that’s really appropriate for the morning show audience.”

“It's not like it's graphic or anything. If anyone asks we can say that line means metaphorically .”

Phil snickered. “Fair enough.”

Dan’s nerves got the better of him, though. Clearly he needed another cosmo after this one. “Although… Maybe it’d be safer to play ‘A Song for…’ instead.”

“You sure?” Phil asked. “That one’s a bit personal.”

Dan shrugged. “Maybe I feel like getting personal.”

 

***

 

Unfortunately, Hazel’s ‘presence’ was in a separate hotel room from Dan and Phil’s. So much for her helping Dan behave.

After check in, the three of them got dinner and then headed to their rooms for the evening. Dan sat stiffly in his own bed, watching television while Phil sat on the other bed browsing the internet on his laptop

Dan felt uneasy, like he was waiting for something to happen. But nothing did. There was no glance or flirtatious comment or sexual advance to increase the tension, but no sudden burst of laughter or comment to alleviate any of it either. He’d look over at Phil every few minutes, wondering if he was truly as calm as he looked, or if he was wrestling internally with the idea of doing… anything. He couldn’t think of any way to get the idea of kissing Phil - or more - out of his head aside from talking to fill the dead air between them, so that’s what he did.

“Hey, um… Phil?” Dan finally said.

Phil looked over at him. “Not ‘Mr. Lester’?” he asked.

Dan shook his head. “No, not right now. We’re not working, so.”

Phil nodded. “What’s up?”

“I’m just really nervous about tomorrow.”

Phil smiled warmly and closed his laptop. “You’ll be fine. You’re talented and you’re charming and we’ve gone over the interview questions they’re likely to ask. You’re gonna do great.”

“Are the people there going to know how to do my makeup though?” Dan said with a smile.

“Well, they won’t be as good as Louise is, but I’m sure they’ll make you look like… fantastic-plus.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dan laughed.

“You always look fantastic, so I figure for TV they’ll have you looking better than fantastic. So fantastic-plus.”

“You absolute spoon.” Dan shook his head.

Phil smiled at him.

They both looked towards the television sitting on the dresser opposite their beds.

“Phil… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“We’re… we’re not… anything, right?”

Phil breathed in. He thought about asking Dan what he meant by that, but he was pretty sure they were beyond the point where such pretense was believable. “Um… no, no we’re not.”

Dan nodded. “So… I mean, if I were to meet someone… would you be okay with that?”

“Have you?” Phil asked cautiously.

“No, no, definitely not,” Dan said. “But like… dating… that’ll be a thing at some point, right? I’m all… famous now or whatever.” Dan hated the word ‘famous.’ He didn’t like how it separated him from other people. In his mind, he was still a lonely, awkward southern boy who’d been in a few commercials once. He wasn’t a famous pop singer. But he had to acknowledge the reality that he had fans already, and he was about to become very desirable simply for being… well, famous. “People are going approach me for… like… dating… and stuff.”

Phil smiled. “And when that happens,” he said quietly, “I’ll be happy for you.”

Dan nodded silently. He thought he heard some sadness in Phil’s tone, but he was pretty sure he was imagining things. He found himself wishing Phil had explicitly expressed some sort of disapproval -- be it jealousy or territoriality or even poutiness.  _ Something. _ As it was, Dan felt thoroughly rejected. He knew they couldn’t get together, but he hoped at least Phil’s feelings would be made bare.

“Which isn’t to say I wouldn’t, y’know, envy whoever you’re dating.”

Dan could scarcely believe his hears. His eyes met Phil’s. “You would?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah. It’d be hard not to.”

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me you like me.”

“...What?”

“Tell me you like me. I need to hear it.”

Phil hesitated. “Dan...Come on. You know I do.”

“I need to hear it,” Dan said more firmly.

“I…”

Phil was interrupted by a knock on the hotel room door. He got up, not looking at Dan, and answered. Hazel stood there in a bathrobe (clearly clothed beneath it), looking rather put out. She held up her phone.

“Martyn’s been trying to text you,” she said. “He e-mailed you video of today’s auditions. You and Dan need to watch and let him know which dancers you like for the tour. And call him back as soon as you do, his texts are getting a bit grumpy.”

“Thanks Hazel, will do.”

Hazel gave a small wave and headed back to her room. Phil closed the door. When he turned around, Dan was standing up, having listened to the conversation.

“Dancer auditions, huh?” Dan asked.

“Yeah.”

Dan nodded.

“So um…” Phil started, “about… our conversation earlier…”

“Yeah?”

Phil sighed. “I’m not going to tell you I like you, Dan. I understand why you think you need to hear it, and… that reason isn't a good reason for me to say it. I need you to not equate me liking you with you being validated somehow. You… you’re important, no matter how I feel about you. You’re special. And you matter. Your existence matters. Okay? I need you to believe that.” Phil paused and looked down. He shook his head, frustrated with himself. “That night we spent together, that was… it was amazing. But I screwed up really badly. I shouldn’t have said what I said to you. And I’m sorry. God, Dan, I’m so sorry.”

Dan’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears. What Phil was saying was ‘loving you is irresponsible,’ but all Dan could hear was ‘I don’t love you.’

So he turned down his bed and climbed in, hoping he could hide his tears by burying his face in his pillow.

“Okay. Goodnight, Phil.”

Finding himself heartbroken for Dan, Phil turned out the lights. “Goodnight then,” he said. He turned down the TV volume until it could only barely be heard over the sound of city traffic outside. The room flashed with the blue glow of the screen. Phil sat on his bed and sent Martyn a quick text message saying he’d watch the audition videos with Dan in the morning, since it was getting late now. He plugged his phone in to charge overnight, and opened his laptop. His eyes were completely unable to focus on what was there. He could tell he was on a blog post, but he couldn’t tell you what the title had been or what it was about. He read the same paragraph half a dozen times. He sighed. He closed the laptop and leaned back against the headboard.

He fidgeted with his fingers guiltily.

“Dan?” he whispered. “Are you asleep?”

“Yes,” Dan said.

Phil let out a puff of a laugh and smiled a tiny amused smile.  _ That’s Dan, _ he thought.  _ That’s the boy I love. _

Gathering up a necessary amount of boldness, Phil got out of his own bed and slowly approached Dan’s. Hearing him approach, Dan rolled to look back at him, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

Phil reached down for the covers. “Is this okay?” he asked.

Dan let his eyes wander away from Phil’s for a moment, and then he looked back at him. “If it’s okay with you,” he said, “it’s okay with me.”

Phil crawled under the sheets next to Dan and scooted up close to him. Their bodies bent at all the same angles and they fit together like jigsaw puzzle pieces. Phil felt secure like this, like Dan’s body was where he belonged. He wrapped his arm around Dan, making Dan feel safe and cared for again. Dan couldn’t stop the tears this time. Phil, feeling Dan’s body shake, hugged him tightly.

“The thing is… I do love you, Dan,” he whispered. “Please… please don’t forget that. We can’t be boyfriends, not officially, but… unofficially… you do have my heart."

Dan sniffled.

Phil kept talking. "You’re so special, Dan. You’re so magical and you’re so beautiful and… I wish… Sometimes I wish things were different. That I wasn’t your boss, and we’d just become friends after that night at karaoke. But I can't have it both ways. So... honestly... I'd rather be your boss and not be able to have you than not know you at all.”

“Phil,” Dan sobbed quietly. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I’m not ‘just saying’ anything, Dan. I’m confessing a sin.” Phil gave a mirthless chuckle and rolled his eyes at himself.

Dan breathed to try and calm down. “I… I don’t…” He paused and finally closed his eyes. “Why does it have to be like this?” he whispered.

Phil had no answer. He just held Dan as tightly as he could until they both fell asleep.

 

***

 

Dan closed his eyes as the familiar piano came in through his ear monitor. A distant percussion sample came in alongside some synthesized string plucks, and then the rock drums built the song to an orchestral apex. After a few bars, the music calmed to give Dan’s vocals some room.

“Imagine if you were walking alone, and suddenly you found yourself immersed in darkness,” he sang. “Imagine if you kept moving forward, despite not knowing what was coming up before you.”

Phil watched from the side of the stage, mouthing the lyrics to “Endless sorrow” and smiling. It wasn’t a happy song really - Dan had described it as ‘optimistically pessimistic’ on the show a few minutes ago - but he was so proud of Dan he couldn’t help it.

“Even if on your back there's only one single wing to carry your weight,” Dan sang in the chorus, “Even if on my back I don't have a pair of wings to carry my weight… I'll carry you.”

Phil remembered when Dan showed him these lyrics for the first time.

 

_ Dan was sat on Phil’s sofa, cross-legged, and Phil was next to him.  _

_ “But if you have only one wing between you, then… I mean… that’s not sustainable,” Phil had said. _

_ “That’s the point,” Dan had explained. “It’s about two people who love each other but they both have too much baggage. Like maybe one is depressed and insecure and unable to take care of themselves, and the other has too many expectations to live up to but not enough energy or time to do that. They’ll never be happy because they can’t really take care of each other. But… they’ll be together. And that’s beautiful to me.” _

_ “It’s tragic to me,” Phil had said. _

_ Dan had just frowned. _

 

“This is an era of wingless angels,” Dan was singing now. “Some of us willing to carry your weight.”

The song had a guitar break here. Dan watched as someone from the show’s crew whispered in Phil’s ear. Phil nodded and continued watching Dan. Phil gave Dan a thumbs up, and Dan smiled slightly, trying not to let anything show on camera.

_Even if on your back you don't have_  
_one single wing to carry your weight,_  
_ What if on my back there is still  
_ _one single wing to carry your weight?_

_ I'll fall with you...  
_ _ I'll fall with you… _

 

***

 

“Next!”

Dan and Phil and Hazel were sitting with Martyn at another round of dancer auditions. Dan’s persnickety nature was wearing everyone’s patience thin. He’d picked three dancers he liked, but one slot was still left open and they needed to begin rehearsals as quickly as possible.

And as soon as  _ he _ walked in, Dan was doomed.

His hair fell in a messy fringe across his forehead, hanging over his eyes a bit, and he reminded Dan of… well, himself, but with a more masculine jawline and a more athletic build.

To Dan, this guy was perfect.

“Okay,” Dan said, looking at the dossier in front of him. “Number 23, Anthony… I’m sorry, how do you pronounce that?”

“Padilla.”

“Anthony Padilla, okay. How old are you?”

“24. Just turned 24.”

“Oh, well happy birthday,” Dan said flirtatiously, unable to tear his eyes away. “Nice accent. You’re American, then?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. Alright then, let’s see what you can do.”

Anthony’s dancing was, objectively, not good. Hazel and Martyn glanced at each other, shaking their heads. Phil’s eyes went back and forth between Anthony’s apparently arbitrary arm and leg movements and Dan’s lustful eyes. Phil glared at both of them.

After a few minutes, Anthony’s audition piece was done and Dan was giving him a confident smile. “That looked really good. We’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” Anthony said, nodding his head once in thanks and waving before rushing his sweaty self out of the studio.

“I liked him,” Dan said. “We’re bringing him on.”

“What?” Hazel said, disbelieving.

“I have to agree with Hazel here,” Martyn said as politely as he could. “He was… I mean, we’ve seen at least a dozen dancers who were better than him.”

“I thought he did great,” Dan said. “Plus, I like the look of him. He’d work when I need a love interest on stage.”

Dan heard a splintery  _ crack! _ coming from his left. He turned to look and saw Phil making a fist, a broken pencil inside it.

“I have to go,” Phil said and got up in a hurry.

 

***

 

“You said we weren’t anything,” Dan yelled, angrily pointing at Phil in his office that evening.

“We aren’t, and we can’t be, but…”

“There’re no ‘buts.'  _ We can’t be. _ So guess what? I’m allowed to think some dancer is cute, for fuck’s sake.”

“But he’s  _ terrible, _ Dan! He’ll bring down the quality of your entire show if you hire him!”

“Oh fuck you, Phil. You’re just jealous.”

“I am not! I want your tour to be great, and it can’t be great if he is wiggling his arms around behind you like some sort of drunk noodle.”

“It’s  _ my  _ show, Phil! I’ll hire whoever the hell I want! And if you don’t want me to flirt with him, or any of the other dancers, or the keyboard player you got - who, by the way, is pretty fucking gorgeous - then stop being a coward and ask me the fuck to dinner already.”

“I… I can’t do that, Dan.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you’re my boss.”

“Yeah.”

Dan leaned in. “That didn’t stop your brother from asking out Cornelia, now did it?”

Phil’s eyes widened. This was news to him. “He… he did what?”

“Your brother asked Cornelia - you know, that artist that you signed? - out to dinner. They’re going out this Friday.”

Phil felt sick and betrayed. After the stern talking-to his brother had given him about sleeping with Dan, this was a massive shock.

“What? But… no. He wouldn’t do that.”

“Sure he would. Phil, he adores her. Have you not noticed it?”

The truth was, he hadn’t. He’d been so swept up in his own world, his own stress, his own feelings, that he hadn’t seen how Martyn and Cornelia looked at each other or talked to each other. He felt like three different varieties of ‘bad person’ all wrapped up together.

“You. Are. A  _ coward. _ You won’t even give me a try and see where it leads us. You'll cuddle up with me and say you love me, but… how am I supposed to believe that?”

Phil’s expression was blank as he internally wrestled with his anger towards Martyn, his disgust with himself, and his jealousy over Dan’s apparent interest in Anthony.

“Martyn doing it doesn’t mean it’s suddenly okay,” Phil said, as calmly as he could. “Their relationship will have problems because of who they are to one another professionally. Unless he quits the label, it can’t work.”

“You don’t know that!” Dan shouted. “And what if they do make it work, Phil? What if they’re insanely happy together? Are you just going to look back at today and say you  _ wished _ you’d tried? I don’t want to be a wish, Phil! I want to be _yours!”_

Dan breathed, holding back the crying that he desperately wanted to do right now.

“But if I can’t be?” he said through pursed lips. “If you’re  _ so _ insistent that I can’t be? Fine.”

Dan got his phone out and hit a few buttons. He put it up to his ear and glared at Phil.

“Hi, Anthony?” Dan said in the sweetest voice he could conjure up. “It’s Dan Howell, I’m calling from the Lester Music office.”

Phil felt all the air get knocked out of him.

“I wanted to personally say congratulations. We really liked your audition today, and we want to bring you on for the tour.” Dan paused to give a flirtatious giggle. “Oh, no, thank  _ you _ for auditioning. I’m honored I got the chance to watch you. Um, before you go…”

The coy tone Dan was using made Phil want to vomit.

“...I was wondering, and, oh my god I  _ never _ do this kind of thing but… are you seeing anyone? No?” Dan punctuated the ‘no’ with a vindictive look at Phil. “I’m sorry if this is forward, but… would you like to have dinner with me on Saturday? … Yes, like a date. ...Really?” Dan smiled. “Wonderful. I’ll see you then. Yes, absolutely. Congratulations again. Bye!”

Dan hung up the phone and went back to the narrowed eyes and frown he was giving Phil.

“You can’t do that,” Phil said. “You can’t go out with him.”

“Can’t I? Fucking watch me.”

And with that, Dan flipped Phil the bird and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: ["decision" by Ayumi Hamasaki](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdKHEQUpaB8)
> 
> "Endless sorrow" is based on [Ayumi Hamasaki's song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__dmuhTyCEU). The lyrics are mostly directly translated but with some conjecture & interpretation on my part intended to pad out the lyrics to a singable length.
> 
>  
> 
> [Give this chapter a note or two on tumblr if you liked it!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177191742358/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1450)


	15. Decision Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil confronts Martyn while Dan, ever the procrastinator, looks at album reviews instead of packing. And as it turns out, Dan is the only person Phil really has to talk to anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: The brief sex scene at the end includes a moment of consensual restraint.
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this chapter - I intended for it to be much longer but I'm gonna have to split it up. This chapter is more thematically cohesive if I stop it where it is though, so I think it turned out better than expected. :) Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> [Click here for this chapter's tumblr post!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177396481468/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1550)

“Come into my office.” Phil said into his phone with a shaky voice, hanging up before Martyn could respond properly. He was on the verge of tears, and in the face of his older brother, despite being angry, he didn’t want to appear weak.

Martyn swung the door open within moments, the tense look on his face making it clear that he knew exactly why Phil wanted to talk.

“Sit down,” Phil said quietly. It was almost more of an exhale.

Martyn did as instructed.

“So…” he said, “I’m going to guess you’ve heard about me and Cornelia then?”

What infuriated Phil the most was that Martyn appeared so confident in his decision to start a relationship with one of his own artists. He looked like he felt guilty for disappointing Phil, not for being a hypocrite and engaging in such a flagrant ethical faux pas. Phil wanted Martyn to be nervous about getting fired, or tearfully regretful, or _something,_ but Martyn’s face and tone of voice said little more than “oh well.”

“I heard you were going to dinner with her this weekend.” Phil had to literally bite his tongue before and after speaking lest his mouth remain open long enough for cries to push past his words and escape.

“Well, that’s true, but there is more history there,” Martyn explained, apparently trying to get Phil to understand that Cornelia wasn’t a sudden fling but something more serious. “We’ve been talking for some time, actually. It was getting flirtatious before I brought her to the label. It came up that she was a singer and songwriter, so I told her about the label and asked if she wanted to sign. It was sort of to impress her, I’ll admit, but I did genuinely think she was talented and deserved the benefits of a contract. But, yeah, it um… it’s starting to get serious between me and her now.”

Phil’s mouth hung open in disbelief.

“Wait. You recommended we sign her… knowing you were interested in her romantically?”

Martyn shook his head. “It was still only casual then. I didn’t know I’d feel so strongly about her. I certainly didn’t intend to fall in l--”

Phil interrupted Martyn before he could finish that sentence. “What’s that?” he said, pointing to the paper in Martyn’s hand.

“It’s… my resignation as co-president.” Martyn leaned over and placed the tri-folded sheet of A4 onto Phil’s desk.

Phil nodded sadly. Apparently Martyn was abandoning him too. _What luck._

“The letter asks that you keep me on as head of marketing, since that’s where my talents seem to lie, and I’d like to continue running the shop as well. But that’s up to you. If you want to remove me from the company entirely, I understand.”

Exasperated, and feeling thankful Martyn wanted to stay at Lester Music at all, Phil dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “No, that’s… fine, I guess.” He sighed, letting his hands drop and he looked Martyn in the face. That timidly guiltless face. And something in Phil snapped. “You know, you’ve really fucked me over, Martyn. Do you realize that?”

Martyn was momentarily shocked by Phil’s choice of language, but once the startled feeling faded he just felt his stomach clench. He wasn’t sure what he’d done that fucked Phil over that badly, but… _oh._

And just as Phil began to speak again, Martyn realized what he’d done.  

“I always go to you for advice because… well, you’re my brother,” Phil continued. “You know me better than anyone else ever will. And you’re older and wiser and I respect your opinion and I trust that you want what’s best for me and, over the last few years, what’s best for this company too.”

Martyn shook his head, slightly panicked that he’d permanently ruined his relationship with his own brother. “I… I didn’t--”

Phil raised his volume a bit as he cut Martyn off. “So, needing your help, I told you I slept with Dan. And you went _off_ about how bad it was to stay with him. I’d known Dan for _two years_ at that point. You _had_ to have known that the way I felt about him was serious even before I told you I loved him. But you’ve known her, what, two or three _months_ ? And _you_ get a free pass to step down and leave me alone to head this label? Do you have any idea what you’ve done!?” That was when the tears finally won. Phil’s eyes reddened and tingled uncomfortably. “I’m trapped, Martyn! I don’t have anyone to leave this company to! If I step down, there’s no label. That means all the artists we’ve signed and all the people that we’ve hired over the last couple of years are out of a job.”

Martyn sat, fidgeting with his fingers the same way Phil often did when he was upset or anxious. He started to feel tears build in his eyes too, feeling sympathy for his brother and, finally, guilt.

“ _You’ve_ taken the option to not be Cornelia’s boss anymore so you can be with her,” Phil choked out, “so now _I can’t possibly take that option_ to be with Dan! How… how could you _do_ that to me!? It’s so unfair!” He knew he sounded childish saying something like that, but it was hard not to feel like a child right then. It was like being told you couldn’t have the last biscuit before dinner, only to watch your mother eat it herself.

Phil squeezed his mouth and eyes shut and bowed his head down, not wanting his and his brother’s tearful eyes to meet right now.

“I’m sorry,” Martyn said. He gave no qualifiers, no excuses, and no explanations. Just an earnest _I’m sorry._ And Phil reluctantly accepted that Martyn meant it.

Phil knew that Martyn wasn’t thinking about Phil or the company when he asked Cornelia to dinner -- effectively, in this case, asking if she wanted to be a proper, serious couple. Even Martyn himself knew that. He was merely doing the best he could to find happiness for himself, making the decision that felt right. And if Phil had taken the option to quit the label, it would have been Martyn who was abandoned there as solo president. Phil had always been the more ambitious of the two career-wise, so of course it was harder for him to quit his job at the label than it was for Martyn. Phil was angry with his brother, sure, but the fact was, he prioritized work over love in a way that Martyn simply didn’t. He couldn’t force Martyn to stay in this job if he didn’t want it more than he wanted to be with Cornelia.

Phil realized he was angry at Martyn not for abandoning him at the top of Lester Music, but for shining a light on Phil’s priorities -- priorities that, since he realized he was in love with Dan, Phil wasn’t sure he wanted to have anymore.

“Normally,” Phil said, raising his head, and keeping his tone flat, “I guess this is where you’d say that one day I’ll fall in love and I’ll understand. But, as you know, I _am_ in love. So I _do_ understand. I promise I do. And…” He sniffled, pushing his lips to one side as he thought. “Because of that, I… I can’t not accept your apology.” One last tear rolled down Phil’s cheek. He breathed in. “But it’ll be a long time before I can truly forgive you for this.”

Not knowing what else to say, Martyn nodded. Phil wasn’t wrong.

“Please leave,” Phil muttered, turning toward his powered-down computer screen and pretending to work, refusing to make eye contact.

“Sorry,” Martyn said, ducking out quickly.

Phil sighed, pointing his eyes toward the door as it closed. When he knew Martyn was gone, he inhaled and then wrung an anguished, growling cry out of himself, angrily knocking a stack of papers off his desk. With that out of his system, he took a breath to calm down and closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of the aircon running. Any other thought that entered his mind, he let fly away. Like a bird passing by his window, or a butterfly landing on his imagination only briefly.

 _Wings,_ Phil thought sadly. Knowing where the thought of wings would eventually take him, he quickly shook his head. _Aircon. Aircon. Listen to the aircon._

With Martyn focusing on marketing and sales, Phil was going to need to hire some more A&R and administrative help. He’d need a proper HR person, too, since he probably already has too many people in his employ without HR. _Sarah’s due for a promotion,_ he thought. _Maybe I can find her some HR training or certification courses or something._

He turned on his computer monitor and opened up the company org chart. He dragged Martyn’s box down to the next level, below himself.

He didn’t like seeing his own name by itself on that chart. It didn’t feel like Lester Music without his brother helping run it by his side anymore.

 

***

 

“...in general there’s a lot of feeling here,” came the voice from Dan’s speakers, “some very strong lyrics, a lot of vocal vulnerability. Genre-wise I don’t think he knows what space he needs to occupy, but I feel like the Dan Howell ‘brand’ as a pop star with something personal to say is starting to take shape here. He’s not there yet but there’s clearly an _artist_ somewhere in there. I’m feeling a strong 6 to a light 7 on this LP...”

A 6.

A 6??

Dan bit the inside of his mouth. He felt really ambivalent about that video reviewing _Stoicism._ He couldn’t quite decide if the reviewer’s opinion had been a favorable one or not.

So Dan checked Pitchfork next. It got a 6.4 there, which was reasonably high for a Pitchfork review, but Dan was still disappointed.

He checked Metacritic to get a more general sense of whether this D grade was a consistent view of the album or not. Apparently the album averaged a 78, with a user rating of 8.9.

8.9. Fans thought the album was a B+. And it was his _first._ He smiled for a moment at that. He was proud of it.

Dan continued reading reviews, clicking from one site to the next as though he was looking for something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew he’d come across a phrase or comment that told him that _this_ reviewer understood him somehow. He came across quite a bit of praise, but somehow none of it was the _right_ praise. He’d instead latch onto the criticism and dismiss the positive comments within moments, acknowledging it with little more than a nod or a slight smile before continuing past it.

The album was inconsistent genre-wise (although apparently the quality was consistently ‘decent at worst’). The lyrics didn’t flow perfectly (although the composition on ‘Time Drives Recklessly’ was exceptional and Dan should clearly compose more of his own material). The level of studio gloss varies too much across the running time of the album (although Dan’s best moments are when the production is a bit more raw). Dan’s voice sounded far too breathless at times (but he was so emotive it was hard not to love listening to it).

Dan stood up from his desk and flopped down onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling, wondering when he was going to feel successful. He grabbed his journal.

_“I haven’t crossed a finish line here._  
_In fact I’m just getting started.”_

_“No matter how much I polish myself, I’ll never be a perfect human being…_  
_but those imperfections sure will shine, won’t they?”_

Dan heard a knock. He smiled, closing his journal and sliding it away. “Come on in, Nana.”

“How’s packing going?” Alice asked as she peeked her head in. She looked around his room to find a grand total of two unfolded boxes - one full and taped shut, and the other one open but mostly empty. Half a dozen more were still folded up, leaning against the wall.

“Ah… not great,” Dan admitted. He stood up and walked to his desk, pointing at his computer screen. “I got a bit distracted.”

“Oh?” She stepped inside, trying to repress the urge to look over Dan’s shoulder.

“Yeah, looking at reviews of the album.”

Alice gasped a bit, her face lighting up. She’d been wondering what people thought of her grandson’s first album. “How are they?”

“Oh, y’know… some praise, some criticism.”

“What’s the praise?”

“Ah… it’s silly, really. Mostly it--”

“Tell me the praise, Daniel,” Alice said with a smirk and a tilt of her head.

Dan rolled his eyes, but smiled bashfully. “Fine, okay…” He plopped down into his task chair and faced the screen, where a review was still open. He rattled off each positive point as though they were silly and best disregarded. “The album has a lot of genre variety… Howell’s vocals are at their best when he lets the flaws shine through… honest and raw, which is what the overly glossy pop world needs right now… Daring… sexy… human… et cetera, it’s stuff like that.”

“That sounds quite positive indeed!”

Dan shrugged, a faint smile tickling across his lips. “I guess so,” he said.

“Oh, you _guess_ so, is it? You need to learn to accept compliments! Music critics get eyes on their reviews by being relentlessly negative. Praise from a critic is high praise indeed. If they’re kind to you, that means something.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Alice smiled a wide, bright grin at Dan. “I am so proud of you, little angel.”

“Not so little anymore,” Dan chuckled.

Alice looked him up and down. “Honestly, I think you’ve shot up ten centimeters since meeting Phil, it’s actually rather concerning!” she laughed.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” Dan said, a wistful look in his eyes.

“Still no luck with him, hm?” Alice said warmly, a frown pulling at her eyes.

Dan shook his head. “It’s okay. It’s never gonna happen. Besides, I have a date this weekend!”

“Oh? With who?”

“This handsome new dancer who’s coming on the tour. His name’s Anthony.” Dan leaned in to whisper scandalously. “He’s American.”

“Good for you!” Alice turned her head to cough. “Pardon me.”

“You okay?”

“Yes, I think your stack of moving boxes have brought some dust in with them.” Alice stood I’m going to go get some water and get dinner started. You, young man, need to get your stuff packed up! Stop worrying about what the critics are saying. Think about your handsome new boyfriend instead!”

“Nana,” Dan whined playfully, blushing. “Get out of my room you silly woman!”

Alice chuckled, coughing one more time before heading out of the room.

 

***

 

Dan was never worried about Anthony’s dancing, honestly. The guy couldn’t choreograph for shit, but he sure could move. And indeed, once Changmin and Yunho had Anthony doing the same moves as the other three dancers, he looked great. Occasionally he would do this thing with his hips that made Dan’s skinny jeans feel like they were just a bit too tight.

He didn’t really regret asking Anthony out anymore. Maybe he’d be a decent distraction from Phil.

Dan watched the dancers practice with his arms folded, his head nodding to the beat of the song. He didn’t _only_ watch Anthony, but it took some work to watch the others as well.

Anthony had really nice arms. Dan wanted to feel those strong hands grabbing onto his hips, pushing him against the wall, Anthony’s lips pressed against his, and their di--

“Dan?”

“Huh?” Forcibly removed from his daydream, Dan turned to face the source of the voice behind him. Phil. Dan blushed. “Yeah, what, uh… what’s… up?”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Dan gave Phil a nod. “Yeah, one second.” He turned towards Changmin and Yunho. “Hey guys? Tyler is having trouble with the wider leg movements, I notice. Do you think we should move him to the front to narrow the distance between his steps?”

“No,” Yunho said, “I think we’ll just make the step less of a big sweep and more of a slide so he can do it easier. That way we don’t have to change anything else.”

“Sounds good. I’ll check back in a little while.” Stepping back, he gave Anthony a flirtatious wink. Anthony smiled, wiping the sweat off his brow and looking at Dan’s ass as he walked away.

“What do you need, Mr. Lester?” Dan said once he and Phil had turned the corner into the hallway that led to the rehearsal studio.

“I just wanted to let you know that, um… Martyn is stepping down as co-president, and he’s just head of marketing now.”

Dan was suddenly hit with a wave of multiple emotions, the most prominent of which was envy. Coming in second place was anger, which resulted from a quick flash of hope transforming into lingering hopelessness as soon as he thought about the situation for longer than half a second. He kept his face as stony as possible.

“Why is that relevant to me?” Dan asked.

Phil nearly recoiled. “I just thought you should know. After all, you’re one of the original Lester Music artists, your seniority matters.”

“So? Employment changes only matter to me if they’re part of my little entourage. Martyn can do whatever he wants, I don’t give a shit.”

“Are… are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Martyn is quitting so he can date Cornelia, you realize.”

“Sure, I figured. Good for him. I hope he’s happy.”

“Dan, are you even listening?”

“Mr. Lester, are _you_ listening?"

Phil finally noticed he hadn’t heard his first name come out of Dan’s mouth yet. He nodded. “Yeah, sorry.”

“If you want to talk, we can talk after rehearsal.”

“I’ll text you.”

“Fine.”

Dan headed back into the studio and calls to Changmin and Yunho. “Alright, how are they looking?”

 

***

 

**Daniel Howell**

_hey sry its so late, rehearsals finally done_  
_the band were having a hard time with one song_  
_can you meet me on the roof of the office in 30?_  
_it’s ok if not_

 

**Phil Lester**

_Sure, see you there :)_

 

***

 

Phil got to the Lester Music offices slightly later than he’d have liked. Despite that, he still took the time to drop off his blazer in his office. He loosened his tie, but didn’t remove it.

Once he got to the roof, the sky was dark and clear, the nighttime autumn air pleasantly cool. Dan was already there, of course. He was on his back, his fingers woven together over top of his chest, staring upwards toward the stars.

Phil cautiously approached. “Hey,” he said, looking down at Dan’s face. Gravity had pulled his skin back ever so slightly, making him look oddly more handsome than usual. It was an angle he didn’t typically get to see, and he found it was like looking at Dan for the first time all over again.

“Hey, Phil,” Dan replied.

Phil smiled. It was becoming an honor to hear Dan say his first name. “Haven’t been waiting long, I hope.”

“Ages, actually,” Dan said. “Don’t worry about it though. Been looking at the stars, enjoying the company of the one person I care about most in the whole world.”

Phil tilted his head. “But you’ve been by yourself.”

“Exactly,” Dan said with a cheeky, sarcastic grin.

Phil made an “okie-dokie” face.

“That said,” Dan continued, “I wouldn’t mind looking at the stars with the person I care about _second_ most.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I think he said he wanted to talk to me anyway, so he may as well just get his ass down here. I mean, I _guess_.”

Taking the hint, Phil chuckled and lay down next to Dan. He looked over at Dan, letting the glow of a warm smile overtake his face.

And Dan smiled back at him. _I wish I could stay here all the time..._

Their hands met on the ground between them, and they intertwined their fingers without even thinking about it. It just seemed like the thing to do, like it had when they woke up next to each other. Neither of them made a big deal out of it. Neither of them said a thing. Dan kept waiting for Phil to comment on it. Phil kept waiting for Dan to comment on it. It didn’t happen.

Just as Phil was about to open his mouth to speak, Dan beat him to it.

“You know, I wasn’t even actually looking at the stars.” Dan said, turning his head back up toward the sky. “I couldn’t possibly care less about stars. I was looking at the sky in between them.”

“Why?” Phil chuckled. “Contemplating the void or something?” He gazed at Dan’s face in profile. The curve from his forehead to his nose and the slight bend of his lips were like the brush strokes of a master painter, especially in this low light.

Dan smiled a little. “Look, I know it’s on brand for me all interested in the dark abyss of space, but… mostly I just… I see that darkness in between the stars and... To me, that’s the part of the sky with no obstacles. You can just… go. Just go forward with nothing in the way between you and… wherever. Whatever.” He looked at Phil. “Whoever.”

Phil’s chest tightened.

Dan’s eyes were curiously wide as he waited for Phil to say something. Like when he was reading reviews, Dan wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear exactly. Some expression of regret, perhaps. Or a dramatic expression of love. A plea to cancel the date with Anthony. Anything but the silence he was being met with right now.

Dan gave up waiting, and looked back up. He studied the stars for a moment and made a contemplative face. “Which do you think is how the sky really looks? Night or day?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the sky is still the sky whether it’s nighttime or daytime, but they appear completely different. Which one do you think is the _real_ sky, and which one is like a mask it’s wearing?”

“I think they’re both real,” Phil said.

“Explain.”

“Well, the sky isn’t covering anything up. It’s not even changing. The lighting is changing, that’s all. The sky is just being itself in two different contexts. Just because it’s a walking contradiction doesn’t mean it’s faking anything. During the day... it’s at work, and so it calls me Mr. Lester. But at night it’s my friend and it calls me Phil. But they’re both real.”

Dan sighed. “No. They’re not. One of them is a convenient lie the sky tells itself.”

“Which one?”

Dan responded to Phil’s question with a slightly aggravated look.

“Yeah,” Phil said, finally letting go of Dan’s hand. “I know.”

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Dan asked.

“I just… I know this is really… probably awkward, but… aside from Martyn… you’re sort of my best friend and I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s about Martyn and Cornelia then?”

“Yeah.”

“And _I’m_ the best person you could think of to talk to about that?” Dan said, putting on a slightly sarcastic tone of voice. Even with his personal emotional stakes in this situation, he couldn’t help but be amused that he was really Phil’s best option.

“It’s pretty sad, I know,” Phil chuckles.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s kind of an honor that you still want to talk to me. Given my… daytime sky behavior or whatever.”

“I do like talking to you. I really miss when you used to come over. Anyway, yeah, I’m just feeling really… god, I’m feeling so many things.”

“One piece at a time,” Dan said, encouraging him.

Phil breathed. “Okay…. Ugh, sorry, hang on. I’m still figuring out where to start with this.”

Dan raised his eyebrows, letting Phil sort out his thoughts before speaking.

“I wish… I wish the label hadn’t been quite so important to me.”

“Why?”

“Because… Back when I first met you, I could have stepped down and left Martyn with the job of running it. If he wanted to, that is. I should have done that back then. Because now it’s too late for me to. Now… he’s the one who’s stepped down. And people’s livelihoods depend on me staying where I am. So I’m stuck here.”

“Do you not _want_ to be the head of the label anymore?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then there’s no reason to regret staying.”

“But because I’ve stayed, I can’t be… y’know. Your boyfriend.”

“No,” Dan confirmed. “No, you can’t. But I mean… If you’d quit your job for me, and if you and I hadn’t worked out, you’d be out a job _and_ a boyfriend. You’d have given up a dream for me only to have it fall apart. I heard you talking about how excited you were to start this label and do something different. It was so cool to hear you be so enthusiastic. If I took that away from you, I’d hate myself forever. I’m glad you didn’t quit the label for me. You still have a long way to go before you make this label into the amazing thing I know it’s going to be. You have to stick around for that. The truth is, Phil, I don’t want to work for anyone but you. As long as I’m making music, I want you to be there.”

“And as long as I have a record label, I want you to be signed to it.”

“Good,” Dan said. “I’m glad we agree.”

Dan slowly sat up, stretched his arms, and hugged himself. “Getting chilly,” he said. “Shall we go fuck on your desk to warm up?”

Phil choked. “Wh-- I, uh… what?”

“Shall we. Go fuck. On your desk. To warm up?” Dan was not joking around.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Probably not,” Dan said frankly. “But there’s a chance I won’t be single anymore after this weekend. So if you ever want to fuck me again, you best do it now.”

They opened up the stairway access door and took the stairs down from the roof to the offices below. Phil opened up his office door and stepped inside. He turned around to see Dan closing the door behind them. Dan left his hand on the doorknob and leaned his head back against the door.

“Phil?” Dan singsonged.

“Hm?”

“There’s papers on your desk.”

Phil pushed everything off his desk in one quick motion - possessed this time not by anger, but by desire. “Not anymore,” he growled, approaching Dan with his head lowered and eyes raised like a panther stalking a willing gazelle.

Phil swiftly wrapped his left hand around one side of Dan’s neck and leaned in, kissing and licking the other side. He placed his right hand on Dan’s hip, pulling his body in close. Dan unbuttoned Phil’s shirt, letting it hang open, while his neck was caressed by Phil’s mouth.

“Oh fuck… Phil…”

Phil pushed his hand up, signaling to Dan that his shirt needed to come off. Dan nodded, backed up, and pulled his shirt up over his head. He took his jeans and pants off as well, then pushed himself up to sit on the edge of Phil’s desk. Phil unfastened his belt and unzipped his trousers.

“How do you want me?” Dan asked.

“Just like that, angel.”

Phil pushed Dan down so his back was flat on the surface of the desk. The cold wood gave Dan goosebumps, a sharp contrast from the body heat he felt now that Phil was leaning over him.

Phil used one hand to pin Dan’s wrists above his head, and the other to unbutton and finally push down his pants. His tie hung down between them, lightly brushing the skin near Dan’s shoulder.

The desk, Phil’s body, the tie, the wrists, it was almost too much. Dan rocked his hips up, digging his hard cock into Phil’s. They both moaned at the skin-on-skin contact.

Phil put his hand up to Dan’s mouth, and Dan somehow knew to run his tongue over it. He licked Phil’s palm, then took his fingers into his mouth, never breaking eye contact.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Phil exhaled.

He reached down between them, taking both of their cocks into his hand - no easy feat considering their sizes. But it was enough to feel incredible. Dan closed his eyes and moaned, leaning his head back, which pushed his shoulders up off the desk and shoved their bodies closer together.

“Oh god, yes, Phil…”

When Dan opened his eyes again, he was gazing into Phil’s. The movement of Phil’s hand was secondary to the sound and scent of each other’s breathing, the closeness of their lips, the flush appearing on their cheeks.

“I love you,” Phil whispered. It just fell out of his mouth. As natural as holding Dan’s hand on the roof.

“You’re only saying that…” Dan said between panting breaths, “‘cause you’re about to get off.” His orgasm was building quickly, his breathing swiftly accelerating.

“No,” Phil exhaled, shaking his head and jerking the two of them faster. “I love you. I’m so in love with you…”

“Shut up, Phil,” Dan said, his eyes contorting into something between confusion and sadness. He kissed Phil, moaning against his lips. He broke away from it to toss his head back again as the heat in his body strengthened.

“Don’t go out with Anthony,” Phil said firmly.

Dan keened, calling out Phil’s name and squeezing his eyes shut as his cum painted his stomach and chest. Phil’s orgasm followed almost immediately, and he screamed out as the intense release caused his whole body to tighten up. He leaned down over Dan, kissing his neck as they came down and re-learned how to breathe normally.

Phil knew his shirt was a mess. He knew his knees were about to give out. He didn’t care. He held Dan tightly. Dan stroked his hair, staring absently at the ceiling tiles.

At some point, one of them had to move. One of them had to decide they were getting up. The world was going to keep turning either way. They had to rejoin it eventually.

Neither of them wanted to.  
  


***  


_Sorry but I'm leaving you_  
_That's just what I gotta do_  
_Even if the place where I am going next_  
_Doesn't seem to make sense to you_

 _Sorry but I'll always be_  
_The person that I am, yeah_  
_Even if you personally don't approve, I gotta live my life_  
_Not make you happy._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italic lyrics at the end are translated & reworked from "decision" by Ayumi Hamasaki. I chose this song and these lines specifically because they apply to more than one person in this chapter, which I hope you picked up on. :) I also hope you pick up on the fact that they rhyme a lot more than Dan typically likes to do. That is important to note.
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's the chapter's tumblr post so you can like or reblog if you want. :D](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177396481468/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1550)


	16. End of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's date with Anthony doesn't go very well. As it turns out, Phil is the only person he has to talk to, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: Some just really not great sex, and then a rather violent fantasy that plays out in Dan's head. It doesn't get graphic, but it's not a pleasant fantasy lol.
> 
> Enjoy reading this one for symbolism and parallels. I'm super proud of it, haha. :)
> 
> [(Tumblr link!!)](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177474499563/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1650)

A rock star still living at home was quite possibly the  _ least _ cool thing in the universe, so Dan opted to pick Anthony up from his flat instead of the other way around. He’d spent more time than he’d care to admit picking out exactly the right outfit and doing his makeup, and in the end he just looked like an emo wannabe vampire or something. He wasn’t all that happy with it, but he hoped that what Anthony knew of his personality would help him not look entirely lame.

He strolled up to Anthony’s door and knocked. When Anthony answered the door, he gave Dan a sly smirk.

“Well hello, gorgeous,” he said.

Dan looked Anthony up and down. “Talking to yourself?”

“Hmm… Usually, yeah, but not right now.”

Dan laughed too hard for the level of actual humor in Anthony’s comment.

“Well,” Dan said, insecure and eager to get the evening underway, “shall we head off to dinner then?”

“Give me two minutes to finish getting ready?”

“Sure.”

Anthony let Dan in, and motioned for him to have a seat in the lounge while he was waiting.

15 minutes later, Dan was still waiting. When Anthony finally emerged from his room, he didn’t look much different.

“Sorry,” Anthony said, “my hair wouldn’t behave. Ready to go?”

Dan smiled as he stood up. He had to admit, Anthony did look  _ really _ good.

 

***

 

Dan had chosen the nicest restaurant he could find that didn’t require a reservation. They were sat in a booth, seated right next to each other, the dim lighting making Anthony look more “tall dark and handsome” and less “dorky cute” than he usually did.

“What did you do before becoming a dancer?” Dan asked him.

“Not much really,” Anthony shrugged. “School. I did some gymnastics when I was younger, but I was too tall to go pro with it, which is upsetting because I got gold and silver medals in local competitions.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Luckily I like music, so I was able to channel that talent into dancing.”

“Makes sense,” Dan said.

“I’d ask what  _ you _ did, y’know, before all this rock star stuff, but I feel like I already know you so well,” Anthony said, his elbow on the table, leaning his head onto his hand. He looked confident, unflappable. Like he had everything under control. “You know a couple of your commercials aired in the states too?”

“You’re joking,” Dan laughed, blushing.

Anthony shook his head. “Nope, I was aware of you even before moving up here.”

Dan shook his head, smiling. “I guess that makes the ‘what’s your CV’ line of questioning a bit uninteresting, doesn’t it?”

“That’s okay though, there’s plenty more about you I’d like to learn.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like... what’s your favorite color?”

“Is black a color?”

Anthony laughed. “No, that’s literally the absence of color.”

“Well… gold, then? Does gold count?”

“Sure?” Anthony said questioningly, chuckling along with Dan.

“What about you?”

“Blue, I guess. I’m not really much of a fan of color either, to be honest!”

They giggled at each other, and Dan took a sip of the red wine in his glass.

“How’s your wine?” Anthony asked in a low voice.

“Don’t ask like that!” Dan laughed. “It sounds like you drugged it or something.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m gonna get you so turned on, no drugs would  _ ever _ be necessary.”

“You’re that good, huh?” Dan said, feigning skepticism. He had no doubts Anthony would be at least decent - a guy who moves his hips like that isn’t going to be terrible - but he didn’t need him to be any good. He just needed him to be into it. He just needed the distraction.

“You bet your cute little twink ass I am,” Anthony said, winking.

Normally Dan would find his particular variety of flirtation nauseating, but he was hot and Dan was lonely. So, yet again, Dan laughed more than Anthony deserved.

“We should probably eat first though, yeah?”

 

***

 

Anthony had his hand resting on Dan’s crotch the entire time the server stood there taking their orders. Dan couldn’t help the hard-on he got because of it. He was simultaneously thrilled by this and sort of pissed off about it. When the server finally walked away, Anthony removed his hand and Dan exhaled.

“You’re fucking evil,” Dan said, unable to help saying it playfully.

“I am,” Anthony said.

“Exhibitionist, then?”

“My hand stayed under the table, at least,” Anthony said defensively. “Although, now that you mention it,” he continued, lowering his voice and leaning in slightly, “I wouldn’t mind if people watched. I kinda like the idea of showing off how lucky I am.”

“Well then,” Dan said, “I’m glad I put makeup on.”

Anthony laughed. “Like you wouldn’t be completely beautiful even without it.”

Dan’s face relaxed. “Say that again.”

“You’d be beautiful even without makeup.”

Dan kissed Anthony right there in the booth, letting it get rather passionate for a kiss in a restaurant. Normally he wouldn’t be okay with doing this at all, but something about being with Anthony made him feel bold. And, frankly, stupid.

He pulled away from the kiss with a quick bite of Anthony’s lower lip and smirked.

“The boy can kiss,” Anthony said, impressed.

“I can do a lot more than kiss,” Dan replied.

“Can’t wait to find out.”

Once the food arrived, they mostly ate in silence. They kept looking at each other and smiling, though.

“How’s yours?” Dan asked.

“Good.”

Anthony didn’t ask Dan about his food.

When the check came, they both reached for it.

“I got this,” Anthony said.

“No,” Dan insisted, “I did the inviting so I do the paying. It’s a personal rule, I never break it.”

“That’s very noble of you, but I like being the one who pays. It makes me feel… useful.”

Dan was looking at the total on the check, raising his eyebrows curiously. “Well,” he said, “If you insist.”

The funny thing is, Dan had a voice inside his head screaming loud “nos” and “don’ts.” The voice pointed at obvious displays of Anthony’s arrogance and selfishness the whole night. But at the forefront of Dan’s mind were Anthony’s flirtations, confidence, and hip movement. That screaming voice in Dan’s mind was distant, weak, and fading quickly.

Even when he saw Anthony only tip 5%, Dan still wanted to fuck him. He wasn’t proud of this.

 

***

 

When they got back to Anthony’s place, they were too preoccupied with making out to speak. They felt their way past the front door, just barely aware of where they were going. Once inside, Anthony locked his door and pushed Dan down onto the sofa. Dan giggled. Clearly this was a night for submissive mode. He had no problems with that.

“So... you say you’re good at more than just kissing,” Anthony said. “Wanna show me?”

“Oh yeah,” Dan said with an eager nod.

Anthony undid his trousers and pulled them and his underwear down, exposing his modestly-sized but certainly not embarrassing dick. Dan was able to take it into his mouth easily and got right to it.

“Ah…” Anthony moaned. “God your mouth feels good.”

Dan kept his eyes shut. Anthony smelled of musk and precome and cheap cologne and Dan found himself more into it than Anthony deserved.

“Stop,” Anthony said. “I wanna fuck you. Turn over.”

Dan nodded and turned around, pushing his pants down slowly, looking back over his shoulder at the oh-so-eager Anthony. Eventually he looked away, putting his arms up on the armrest of the sofa so he was on all fours, his ass in the air. Anthony had lube in his pocket - because of course he did - and a condom in his wallet, so he got himself and Dan’s hole ready.

The lube was too cold, but Dan didn’t feel like it was his place to say anything. He didn’t want Anthony to feel bad or suddenly not be in the mood anymore.

“I’ll start slow, okay?” Anthony said.

“Okay,” Dan said and relaxed.

Anthony pushed into Dan as slowly as he promised, groaning loud as he did.

“Hold on a second,” Dan said.

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah just let me sorta… relax around it, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Anthony, too antsy to stay entirely still, smacked Dan’s ass lightly. Dan gave a flirtatious hum in response.

“You like that?” Anthony asked.

“Yeah,” Dan replied.

Anthony gave him another light slap.

“Okay,” Dan said, “go ahead and move.”

Holding onto Dan’s hips, Anthony started sliding further in until he was pressed flush against Dan.

“Fuck... you feel so good,” he moaned.

“Mm, you too,” Dan said.

Anthony slowly sped up, eventually moaning out an “ah!” each time his hips smacked into Dan’s. Dan moaned in response, but he felt like he was performing for a camera or something. Anthony wasn’t the worst lover on the planet, far from it, but it wasn’t like Dan felt the natural urge to moan or call out his name or anything.

Dan momentarily panicked when Anthony began rubbing Dan’s back.

“Don’t do that,” Dan said.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Anthony asked, not breaking his rhythm.

“My back stays covered, ok? Please.”

“Sure, whatever you want.”

“Mm, thank you,” Dan moaned, hoping that if he sounded sexy this brief moment would go forgotten.

Eventually, Anthony said “Oh, fuck yeah” and slowly pulled out. He pushed Dan over so he was on his back again and collapsed beside him on the sofa.

“Did you… did you finish?” Dan asked.

“Sure did,” Anthony said, kissing Dan on the shoulder. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

_ I put on a hell of a performance for you, _ Dan thought.  _ If you’re not gonna get  _ me _ off, the least you could fucking do is moan a bit louder when  _ you _ get off. Jesus. _

“So… why do you want your back to stay covered?”

Dan winced. He’d been hoping Anthony wouldn’t ask. “I um… I just have these scars. I’m pretty self-conscious about them. I didn’t want you to see them during sex and be, like... put off or anything.”

“Dude, you can’t say you have scars and not show them to me!” Anthony said, smiling. “I wanna see! Can I see?”

Dan laughed. “I mean… I guess so. You’ve already fucked me so what have I got to lose?”

Anthony sat up, giving Dan room to remove his shirt. Slowly, taking a deep breath, Dan reached for the hem of his top and pulled it up and over his head.

“Oh whoa,” Anthony said. “That’s some pretty gnarly scarring!”

“In the sense of, like… ‘horrifying,’ or in the sense of ‘cool’?” Dan said with a nervous laugh.

“Both, Dude! Holy shit! Where did these come from?”

“Surgery when I was a baby.”

“What did you have, like, a birth defect that needed correcting?”

“Um. Yeah, kind of.”

“Cool. You look like you got slashed by a velociraptor or some shit! That’s seriously fucking badass.”

Dan pulled his shirt back on and, as Anthony stood to put his pants back on, Dan did the same.

“Wanna stay over tonight?” Anthony asked. “I make some killer pancakes.”

Dan smiled. “As much as I enjoy pancakes, I need to get some sleep tonight. I have a lot to do over the next few days.”

“Tour planning? Songwriting? Other glamorous things?”

_ If finally moving out of my mum’s house is glamorous, then sure. _ “Nothing so exciting,” Dan said. “Errands to run, people to call, that sort of bullshit.”

Anthony smiled. “Well. Thanks so much for going out with me tonight, it was awesome.”

“I’m glad. I had fun.”

“Good. ‘Cause you’re gorgeous and you are one hell of a fuck.”

Dan had to hold back some disbelieving laughter. “Okay.”

“We’ll do it again sometime?”

Dan hesitated for a second. Anthony had been… quite frankly, not the best date ever. But he’d hardly been the worst. And Dan really needed someone else to occupy his time and thoughts for awhile.

“Sure. I’ll text you, okay?”

Anthony beamed. “Okay. Cool. Here, let me walk you out.”

 

***

 

Dan quietly unlocked the front door of his house and tiptoed inside so as not to wake his mother or grandmother. He softly closed and locked the door behind him and took his shoes off by the door, headed to his room, and closed that door behind him as well.

He kicked off his socks and undressed to pants. He sighed and flopped back onto his bed, not even bothering to turn down the duvet and sheet. He felt numb, he just didn’t care. He stared absently at the ceiling, just like he had the other night with Phil.

_ "Don’t go out with Anthony,” _ he’d said. And Dan had come so hard when he did.

Phil had been right, honestly. The date with Anthony wasn’t a great one. It wasn’t the most miserably thing Dan had ever gone through, of course, but it hadn’t really been worth the time. At least he hadn’t needed to pay for dinner. That server was nice and  _ really _ deserved a bigger tip, though.

Phil would have tipped more. Dan had no doubts about that. Phil would have tipped a lot. But no. Phil wasn’t who he took to that restaurant. Phil had chosen work over Dan, and Dan had suffered through a shitty date because of it. This was a crap night and  _ it was all Phil’s fault. _

Dan was angry.

He wrapped his hand around his clothed bulge and gently squeezed, letting his hand slowly move up and down his unsatisfied erection. He imagined pushing Phil against the wall of his office, yelling at him about what a shitty date he’d had and how angry he was that Phil had given up on him.

He pushed his underwear down and licked his palm. He grabbed his cock and started stroking quickly.

He imagined seducing Phil only to reject him. He imagined the two of them fighting - choking each other, tackling each other, pulling each other’s hair - and he imagined himself winning when Phil submitted.

He pumped his cock harder and faster, imagining the guilt and disappointment in Phil’s eyes.

“Please, Dan,” dream Phil said. “Please forgive me. I’m sorry.”

“Say it again.”

“I’m sorry, Dan. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Dan’s orgasm exploded onto his hand and stomach. He grabbed a pillow as quickly as he could and pushed it over his face as he screamed out.

Imaginary Dan let go of Imaginary Phil. The latter was on the ground, coughing and gasping for air.

Back in the real world, Dan tossed his pillow away and caught his breath, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. The thought of hurting Phil and making him apologize was what did it for him?

Anthony hadn’t gotten him off, that’s all. It was just pent-up sexual tension. Nothing more.

Didn’t change that he felt like shit for imagining Phil that way.

He took a moment to forgive himself.  _ Everyone thinks of some fucked-up shit when they need to get off sometimes, right? _ he thought. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone, least of all Phil. He wanted Phil to be happy. He just… felt a little out of control on this particular night. And he needed to feel like he had some control.

The world was spinning without him and he still wasn’t able to quite keep up with it.

He slowly got up, cleaned himself off with a wad of tissues, and threw them into the trash. He felt absolutely wretched. Lonely and useless.

He looked at the time. It was only 11. Phil was a night person. Maybe he was awake...

Dan silently chastised himself for even considering it. He still felt bad about his little sexual fantasy, for one thing, and for another thing… how could he talk to  _ Phil _ about how he was feeling right now? It seemed like exactly the wrong thing to do. But Chris was asleep now, he was always asleep long before 11 these days. He and PJ hadn’t been close enough to talk about this kind of thing in ages now. And his Nana was long asleep. So Dan took a breath, picked up his phone, threw caution to the wind, and called Phil.

Phil picked up before the first ring even finished. “Dan? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He breathed. “Um…” He hesitated, unable to think of what to say.

“Are you sure?” Phil said after a very long moment. “Did Anthony say something wrong?”

“No…”  _...but he didn’t really say anything right either, _ Dan thought.

“Oh god, did he  _ do _ something?”

Dan smiled, happier than he expected to be that Phil was worried. “No, no, I promise, he was…” He took a breath in. “...fine.”

Phil, of course, now knew for sure that the date had gone badly. But he also knew not to press. “If you need to talk about it I’m right here,” he said. “I won’t hang up until you want me to.”

Dan sniffled, tears beginning to sting his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I called you.”

There was so much Phil wanted to say to Dan right then. He wanted to say he’d told him not to go out with Anthony. He wanted to say he was sorry for choosing the company over Dan. He wanted to say he loved him. He even wanted to initiate phone sex. But he didn’t. Because the thing he wanted more than any of the rest of it was to be there for Dan. The thing he wanted most was to listen, not to talk.

“It’s just that I felt… ugh. Like, there’s loneliness you feel when you’re by yourself, and it sucks, yeah? But when you feel lonely with someone else there with you, that just…”

“It hurts,” Phil offered.

“Yeah. It really hurts.”

“Is that how you felt tonight?”

“Yeah,” Dan sobbed.

“It’s okay, Dan,” Phil whispered. “I’m here.”

“I wish you really  _ were _ here.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

Dan thought about it. He seriously, really thought about it. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Not for sex or anything,” Phil clarified. “I just… you sound like you don’t want to be alone, and… I don’t want you to feel like nobody cares about you.”

“Don’t be stupid, Phil, I don’t think nobody cares about me.”

“I didn’t say think. I said feel. It’s one thing to know in your mind that someone cares about you. It’s fully another to know in your heart and soul, in the very depths of your being, that you’re loved. And sometimes we just need to be held or to hear the sound of someone else’s breathing and… that’s enough for us to really know.”

“Please,” Dan squeaked out, trying so hard to be quiet. “Please come. I need you.”

“I’ll be right over.”

 

***

 

**Daniel Howell**

_ i forgot… don’t knock, my family’s asleep _

_ text me when you get here, i’ll let you in _

 

***

 

**Phil Lester**

_ I’m here _

 

***

 

Dan slipped on a clean pair of pants and an oversized t-shirt before leaving his room. He quietly unlocked the front door and carefully opened it, letting Phil in.

As soon as he saw Phil’s face, he felt better. The tightness in his chest disappeared, his mind was clear of the noise that had been flooding it, and every muscle in his body seemed to relax. He smiled warmly. Phil did the same.

Dan closed and locked the door, and they walked back to Dan’s room. He closed his bedroom door as quietly as he could, but the hinge squeaked ever so slightly just as he got to the end. He looked at Phil, making big eyes and an ‘uh-oh’ face, which made Phil smile. It was fun to pretend they were sneaky teenagers rather than grown men in their early 20s who were just trying to be polite to the other residents of the house.

“Hey,” Phil whispered.

“Hey,” Dan replied.

They sat on Dan’s bed, facing one another. Phil looked Dan in the eyes, waiting for him to say anything he might want to say. He had so many questions about what had happened that night to make Dan feel so alone, but he was far more focused on how to make Dan not feel that way.

“I want to talk about Anthony,” Dan said, his quiet voice cutting through the silence, “but I also don’t. Like… I need advice about whether or not I should see him again, but asking you about that feels… just so fucking rude. And honestly, Anthony was rude enough for both of us tonight.”

Phil chuckled under his breath. “Sounds to me like you’ve started talking about him regardless. I’m willing to listen. I won’t get upset.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Dan sighed and lay down, motioning for Phil to lay down facing him. Their heads on Dan’s pillow, they looked at each other, their hands propping up their heads slightly.

“So… yeah,” Dan started. “He was like… super self-centered. Like… wow.”

Phil smirked a bit, but didn’t say anything. He wanted to let Dan finish.

“I mean, he was perfectly civil. He seemed to genuinely be interested in me for the most part. He was  _ very _ flirtatious. I do like how confident he seems, just in general. He complimented me constantly. He made me feel really attractive the entire way through dinner. And then when the check came he insisted on paying, which, y’know… normally if I do the inviting, I want to pay because I don’t want the other person to be taken by surprise by the place we go to, you know?”

“Yeah. It’s a good rule, actually.”

“Thank you. And this was an expensive place, so yeah, I fully planned on paying, but he did. So that was kind of above & beyond my expectations really. But… then… he tipped our server like 5%. Like, what the hell is that? Especially since while the server was taking our orders, he groped me under the table and, like, okay it was kinda hot, but also pretty trashy, you know? And you know what? He never asked me  _ anything, _ even when I asked him a question first. Like he didn’t ask me the same question back. Oh, aside from my favorite color. But then he said my answer didn’t count, anyway. And back at his flat, he talked about my scars like I was a circus sideshow, and when we… uh… well.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if you want to hear the last thing.”

“What? Did you sleep with him?”

“Uh… yeah… I mean, I guess. If you can call it that.”

“It’s okay, you can talk about it if you need to. I promised I wouldn’t get upset, didn’t I?”

“But… how can you promise that? I mean, it’s stupid to promise that. If you feel upset, you feel upset, it’s not like you can really control i--”

“Dan. You’re stalling.”

Dan made an apologetic face.

Phil was genuinely concerned. He took Dan’s free hand and held it gently. “Angel, what happened?”

“It’s just that…. Normally I like having that… ‘used’ feeling. Feeling like… the other person wants me so badly they can’t help but just  _ take _ me, make me theirs. You know. But… it’s different when someone  _ actually _ just uses me to get off. Like, those times when I may as well just be a goddamn fleshlight. You know? Like… he just… fucked me and… that was it. He was done, so we were done. He didn’t even touch me. He was polite enough during, he made sure he wasn’t hurting me, you know? He slowed down when I asked him to, he didn’t move until I asked him to. He wasn’t cruel or abusive or anything. He just… he did the bare minimum and that was it. He didn’t do anything I didn’t want, so I don’t feel violated, I just feel… neglected.”

“I’m sorry, Dan. No one should feel that way on a date. Or ever, honestly.”

“Thanks.”

They lay there quietly for a few minutes, mostly looking at their joined hands. Occasionally they would look at the other person’s eyes, but it was awhile before they did so at the same time. They giggled.

“Your makeup looks good at least,” Phil said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I should probably go clean it off so I don’t fall asleep in it.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be here.”

Dan smiled and headed to the bathroom next to his bedroom.

He turned on the light and looked at Dan Howell in the vanity mirror. He gathered up some makeup remover on the microfiber cloth next to the sink and slowly massaged it into his cheeks first, then forehead and chin, eventually exposing most of his face. With a cotton pad, he applied eye makeup remover to one eyelid, then the other. He washed his face with some antibacterial soap to get the last of the residue off, then rinsed, and patted his face dry.

He looked at Daniel James Howell in the vanity mirror, and turned off the light.

Back in his room, Phil was still there.

He patted the space next to him on the bed, and Dan smiled. He lay with his back to Phil, and Phil wrapped his arm around Dan’s waist.

“Hey, Phil?”

“Hm?”

“Are you free tomorrow? I’m… not really very far along packing.”

Phil smiled into Dan’s hair. “You need help?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh! Wait.”

“Hm?”

“What  _ is _ your favorite color?”

Dan smiled. “Black.”

“That's so you. Feel like I should have known that, actually.” 

Dan’s eyes filled with tears again, but they were happy ones this time. “Damn right you should’ve,” he said.

Phil chuckled quietly and kissed the back of Dan’s head. “Goodnight, my angel.”

Dan yawned and snuggled up into Phil just a bit more. 

“G’night, Phil.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title refers to the song "End of the World" by Ayumi Hamasaki.
> 
> [Feel free to share on tumblr if you like the fic!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177474499563/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1650)


	17. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil helps Dan pack his stuff up, which is only natural since he's basically family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really hard to write a chapter that's mostly connective tissue as opposed to any major plot points. This is the first time we see anything really get resolved or tied up, and it felt really satisfying to write it. Of course it also bridges us from one era of Dan's life into the next, and illustrates Phil's place in Dan's life (which has gradually changed, but we didn't see that gradual change happen in the narrative)... but keeping the writing tight enough that it didn't lag was quite a challenge. I hope this chapter worked, and I hope you guys like it!
> 
> [Tumblr liiiinnnnkk :D](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177642973908/new-chapter-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1750)

_ Knock knock knock. _

Dan breathed in through his nose and blearily rubbed his eyes as he lifted his head.  _ Ugh, morning. _ He moaned, annoyed, and slammed his head right back down on his pillow again.

_ Knock knock knock. _

“Yeah?” he called.

Phil, awakened by the sound of Dan’s voice, stirred behind him as Alice opened the door sporting a flowery dress under a heavy peacoat, pearl earrings, and a handbag still hanging from her shoulder.

“Good morning, Daniel-- oh! Hello, Phil. It’s been ages!”

“G’morning Alice,” Phil mumbled, lifting his arm lazily to wave ‘hi.’ 

Dan snickered and rolled his eyes. “G’morning Nana. And Phil.”

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Alice said, her arms folded. She was confused, but also delighted that Dan and Phil seemed to have mended whatever rift had apparently begun to form between them. She was also greatly amused by possibility that she’d caught Dan in an embarrassing situation.

Dan rattled off his answer, mumbling sleepily. “Phil came over after I got home from um my date to make me feel better ‘cause ugh the date was shit and anyway Phil’s gonna help me pack today ‘cause he’s nice.”

Alice shook her head and laughed. “You two are quite the pair, aren’t you?”

“We’re not a pair,” Dan grumbled, annoyed that she was on about the two of them being a good match yet  _ again _ , and this time with Phil  _ right there in the room. _

“Of course not. Now get up, the both of you! Lots to do today, and as you can see, I’m already back from church. So perhaps you’d best get a move on, hm?” Alice headed off to change clothes, coughing loudly as she stepped away.

Dan groaned and made a face.

Laughing, Phil arched his limbs over Dan’s lethargic form on his way off the bed. Once his feet touched the floor on the other side, he stood straight, still dressed in his clothing from yesterday but pulling it of well. “Come on, you,” he said with a smile. He put his hand out for Dan to take. Dan did, but when Phil pulled, he didn’t sit up. Phil only succeeded in dragging him across the bed. “Dan! Stop being a sloth!” he laughed.

Dan giggled uncontrollably as Phil pulled him head-first off the bed. “Whoa!” he called as he lost his balance and threw his free hand down to the floor in a hurry. It wasn’t enough to stop him from ultimately falling off awkwardly and crawling down to the floor. They both laughed, feeling once again like misbehaving children.

“Can’t even help me get out of bed,” Dan said in a faux whine. “What good are you?”

“Well here’s hoping I can fill up a few boxes at least,” Phil said, looking down at the lazy pile of twenty-year-old on the floor. “You’re gonna need to get yourself to your feet though. I slept in my contacts again, so I gotta go take them out.”

“Fine, fine,” Dan said, working to stand up. 

Phil headed to the bathroom where he’d once accidentally left a contact lens pot. He always kept a spare set of glasses with him just in case, so he was usually prepared for sleeping over. There were occasions when he’d bring Dan home late after a long day or night of writing, and Dan would confess that, although he was okay with going home, he didn’t want to be by himself. Phil was always happy to stay with him for the night whenever he needed it, just as he’d always been happy to let Dan come over if he needed that. It became a common enough occurrence that pretty soon Dan had supplied him with a toothbrush as well.

As Dan’s insecurities and concerns increased, however, Phil’s visits and overnight stays became fewer and farther between. But that didn’t stop Alice treating him like family and Marina putting forth every effort to do the same whenever he was there. As far as Dan’s family were concerned, Phil had saved Dan’s life, and that made him one of them.

“Don’t brush your teeth yet,” Dan called while Phil took his lenses out. “Breakfast first.”

“Okay,” Phil called back. He wasn’t proud of how many times he’d suffered the horrible fate that befalls those who brush their teeth before drinking orange juice. He was happy to get the reminder.

Marina walked by the bathroom. “Oh, good morning Phil! What a pleasant surprise, seeing you here. It’s really been too long.”

“Yeah, I came over last night. Dan asked me to stay and help with packing today.”

“Oh thank God. The extra set of hands will be helpful. You know Daniel’s already got his keys? He’s already paying rent on the place and he’s not even packed yet.”

“Seriously?” Phil laughed. “Dan!”

“Don’t judge me!” Dan yelled from his closet, where he was getting dressed. “I’ve only had an album to promote and a whole tour to plan and practice for, you know, no big deal or anything!”

“He could use a friend’s help,” Marina continued. “Thanks.”

“And how are you doing?” Phil asked her, stepping out of the bathroom with a bespectacled face.

“Good, good. Some of the homework my therapist is giving me feels a bit ridiculous, but I have to admit it does work when I actually do it.”

“What does she have you doing?” 

“Right now, gratitude journaling. It’s supposed to alleviate my anxieties about loss, you know, be thankful for what you have and all that. The timing on this exercise really couldn’t be better. It’s been tough to work past that knee-jerk, y’know, ‘no!’ feeling about Daniel moving out, but this is really helping.”

“Good, I’m really glad.”

“Oh, and if I snap today, I apologize in advance. I’m trying a new medication dosage and it’s been a bit dodgy.”

“That’s understandable,” Phil said with a nod. “Thanks for letting me know--”

“Understatement!” Dan called just before emerging from his room in a hoodie and trackies. “‘A bit dodgy,’ mum? Are you actually kidding me?” He turned to Phil. “The other night she was absolutely  _ weeping _ watching TV and I figured it was like The Notebook or Titanic or something, right? But no, it was goddamn  _ Zombieland _ .”

“Hey, that movie had a good message about what ‘family’ really means!” Marina said defensively. “Maybe I’m weird for crying, but it was touching.”

Dan felt the need to repeat himself. “She cried watching Zombieland, Phil.”

Phil tightened up his lips.

“Oh go ahead and laugh,” Marina said to him. “You know you want to.”

Giving in to the giggles, Phil smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry but that really is just… precious.”

“I ought to smack both of you cheeky little shits right now,” Marina said playfully. “Now get on with your day! Your room better be completely boxed up before you go to sleep tonight.”

“Yes mum,” Dan said. As Marina headed off to do whatever she needed to do with her day, Dan turned to Phil. “I put a change of clothes on the bed for you. I’m gonna go eat.”

“Thanks,” Phil said and went to change in Dan’s room, which didn’t take long.

Alice already had food prepared for them in the kitchen, so once Phil was dressed they shoved it into their faces as quickly as they could. Dan almost forgot to tell his grandma ‘thank you,’ but Phil thanked her first and reminded him. After a quick tooth brushing, they got to work in Dan’s room.

“Where should I start?” Phil asked.

“Um… probably the books above my desk. I know for a fact I won’t need those, they’re safe to pack for sure.”

“Roger that,” Phil said. 

He liked seeing the sorts of books Dan had. He liked seeing anyone’s books, actually. It showed what was important to them, what interested them, and what captured their imagination.

“Interesting,” Phil muttered aloud.

“What is?” Dan replied, digging through the drawers in his dresser to find clothes he knew he wasn’t going to wear over the next week or so. He knew moving wouldn’t take more than a day (once he was packed), but he also knew he’d procrastinate unpacking, so he didn’t want to bury too much of his wardrobe.

“This looks like mostly fantasy novels, books on music theory & history, and biographies.”

“Yeah?”

“Not sure why but to me this is just… so you.”

Dan chuckled. “I guess? I mean they’re just… the books I like.”

Phil tilted his head and thought for a minute. “It seems like… I mean, books are always great for escaping, yeah? But these are the kinds of books for  _ really _ escaping, into things like fantasy worlds and other people’s lives…” He thoughtfully trailed off. “Am I right in assuming this is the bookshelf of someone who’s unhappy with reality?”

“No,” Dan said. “That’s the bookshelf of someone who once wished he was someone else.”

Phil frowned. “Why would you ever want to be anyone else? You’re a great person.”

“Because… I never saw myself as anything remotely near great. I saw myself as… cursed, or something. Reality fucked me over, and I blamed myself. I never blamed reality. Plenty of people had perfectly okay lives, so to me it was clear that reality wasn’t the problem if  _ my _ life sucked. I have biographies for the same reason I got really into acting... I was always trying to learn how to be someone else, live a different life. I thought maybe… if I could be someone else, then…” Dan struggled to explain himself verbally.  _ This would be so much easier if it were lyrics, _ he thought. “Maybe I wouldn’t… I mean there’s just so much that happened that I wanted to forget, but I always knew I couldn’t, but… maybe if I could pretend they didn’t happen to  _ me, _ that they happened to some imaginary person who used to live my life, then… Ugh, nevermind, it doesn’t really make any sense, I know.”

“No, it makes perfect sense.”

“No, it doesn’t…”

“I think it does. Like you want to turn those memories into a movie you watched, not something you experienced. Maybe you’re glad you have the wisdom of that experience but you wish you could make the pain go away.”

“Yeah, actually, that’s it exactly. Like I wish I could separate those memories from the rest of myself. But they’re part of who I am, you know?”

“Yeah. Escaping temporarily is the next best thing, I guess.”

Dan nodded. “Why do you understand me better than I understand myself?”

Phil looked like he had an answer to that question, but he didn’t say it. He just shrugged and smiled at Dan kindly.

Dan looked on the floor, shook his head, and then looked back at Phil. “God, I really owe you an apology.”

“What for?”

“Asking Anthony out to dinner right in front of you out of spite. It was childish and… I’m just really not proud of how I acted. And then he turned out to be not such a great person. I mean he’s not irredeemable, but he’s not worth having upset you.”

“It’s fine, Dan.”

“No, it’s not. It was a petty thing for me to do.”

“It really is fine. I… You know what, hang on, let me close your door.” Phil walked over to Dan’s door and closed it to give them some privacy and a little extra quiet. He wanted to make sure they could have this talk uninterrupted.

He sat on Dan’s bed and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and sorted out his thoughts. Dan sat next to him.

“It wouldn’t be fair of me to make you feel guilty for dating someone.”

“Yeah, but still, I--”

“Hang on, let me finish!” Phil said with a bright smile. “Your behavior might seem out of line to you. But… I kind of deserve it. The way I’ve treated you has been mixed signals as heck, and I know that.”

Dan giggled. “Heck?”

“You know I don’t like swearing,” Phil replied.

“Unless one of us is getting close to orgasm!” Dan laughed.

“Dan! I’m gonna smack you, I swear.”

“Ooh, promise?”

Phil couldn’t hold his own giggles in. “I’m trying to have a serious talk with you here! Come on.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

Phil breathed. “Okay… where was I?”

“Mixed signals.”

“Mixed signals! Right. Um... I made the decision to not officially be your boyfriend ages ago, that’s true, and it... probably wasn’t entirely fair to you.” Phil put a finger up when he saw Dan open his mouth to protest. “Okay, okay, not ‘probably.’ It wasn’t. It should have been something we navigated together.”

Dan nodded, but said nothing, letting Phil continue unimpeded this time.

“But now, with Martyn not running the label alongside me, that’s a choice I can’t go back on anymore. And since I have to live with that choice, you do too, and that’s so unfair to you. Because it was a choice I made out of… Well, cowardice, really. That’s what it was. I won’t deny that.”

Dan made a face and nodded, silently communicating ‘well, you said it, so I don’t have to.’

“But I figure,” Phil continued, “if I can’t give you the label you want, if I can’t make us official, then what I can do for you is… just love you. In the ‘action word’ sense. Let you be free to be yourself, doing what you want to do with whoever you want. All that matters to me… is that you’re happy. I just want to be there for you. You know? Help you pack. Listen to you when you whine about a date going badly.” Phil took a breath and looked Dan in the eye. “Be your best friend.”

“You consider us best friends?” Dan said quietly, his eyes bright.

Phil gave Dan the warmest smile he could. “Always.”

Dan smiled right back. “Me too,” he confessed. It felt so much like saying “I love you” to one another. He’d even already heard Phil say he loved him, but this felt like so much more. It felt more profound. Better.

“Well then…” Phil finished, “I guess if we’re doing apologies right now, I guess it’s only fair that I apologize for leading you on or anything, if that’s what I’ve done. That was never my intention.”

Dan nodded. “I know. And… I’d love to say it never came across that way, but, I mean… sometimes. But it’s okay. I definitely forgive you. Plus, I still feel like it was unfair of me to ask Anthony out right in front of you and then flip you off as I stormed out.”

“Honestly? You hiring him like that without a consensus between all of us was the  _ actual _ worst thing you did!” Phil laughed, and Dan joined in.

“Then like… would you be okay with it if he and I were properly dating?”

“Thinking of going out with him again?”

“Well, yeah. Like I said, he’s not irredeemable. He’s still charming, and…”  _...and for a solid minute, when I had his dick in my mouth, I actually wasn’t thinking of you, which was a welcome relief. _ Dan didn’t say it, but he thought it. “He was a gentleman when it came to the basics. He seemed like he was trying, at least.”

Phil nodded. “It sounds like you do like him.” The truth was, it didn’t sound like Dan liked Anthony much at all. It sounded like Dan was looking for permission to date someone who wasn’t Phil.

“Yeah, I like him,” Dan said nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact and fidgeting.

“Then you should absolutely see him again.”

Dan nodded. “Probably after the New Year though,” he said casually. “Stuff is gonna get stressful in the lead-up to Christmas and everything.”

“Yeah.”

Dan started to stand up, but stopped and turned toward Phil one more time. “Are you  _ sure _ you’re okay with me seeing him again?” he asked, half hoping Phil would give him an out. That Phil would once again beg him not to, like he did that night in his office. “I mean… I’m technically his boss, so that’s the same ethical problem, isn’t it?”

“Strictly speaking,  _ I’m _ his boss. You’re a client contracting his services.” 

“Which makes me his boss,” Dan laughed.

And sure, Phil knew there was no real ethical difference. He was grasping at straws he didn’t even want to grasp at for Dan’s benefit. “Well regardless! If you don’t see him again, it should be because  _ you _ don’t want to. Not on my account.” Phil sighed sadly. “You  _ should _ date other people. I don’t want you to wait for some magical day to come when I’m not a stupid coward anymore. Some random day in the distant future when I’m brave enough to just say…. ‘Forget this’ and close the label or sell it off or promote someone else to my job so I can stop being your boss and just be… yours. I’d love to be that brave eventually but I just… I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

Dan’s face scrunched a bit into one of concern. He wanted to smack Phil and tell him he could absolutely be that strong someday, but he didn’t know if his own motives were altruistic or selfish, so he resisted.

“You deserve someone who’ll make you a priority,” Phil continued. “And… I’m just not capable of that.”

“Are you completely mental?” Dan said. “You make me a priority all the fucking time. I called last night and you came immediately. You dropped everything to be there for me in the middle of the night.” Dan gazed at Phil fondly, wondering what he did to deserve a best friend like him. Even if they were never anything but best friends, Dan thought he could be happy for the rest of his life. “Honestly, my biggest concern is that I’ll never find anyone who treats me as well as you do.”

“You will. Maybe that’ll be Anthony, maybe it won’t, but I’m not the only nice guy on Earth. You should keep your options open.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Phil, you are unbelievable. You may be the only man on earth who’s deliberately put  _ himself  _ in the friend zone.”

An exasperated puff of air laughed its way out of Phil’s nose. “Pretty sad, yeah?” He blushed and stood up, returning to the bookshelf with the intent to keep packing.

“Phil?”

“Hm?” Phil hummed, looking back toward Dan again, who was now standing.

Dan hesitated a moment. He wanted to tell Phil he wasn’t going to call Anthony again. He wanted to tell Phil that he loved him and would wait for that mysterious unknowable day in the future when Phil was suddenly brave. But he didn’t. It wasn’t that he feared rejection; Phil loved him just as much as he loved Phil. And he also knew he’d be willing to wait for Phil, even if it took decades. But he also knew he couldn’t -- and shouldn’t -- wait forever. So, just in case that day never came, just in case Phil really didn’t want to be his and was merely using work as an excuse to avoid completely shattering his heart, Dan didn’t say those things.

“Thank you. For literally everything you’ve done for me since we met. I know I’ve said it before, but… I don’t think it’s possible for me to say it enough.”

Phil had no idea how to respond to that. He never knew how to respond to such earnest expressions of gratitude, really. ‘You’re welcome’ was too formal, ‘thank you for saying that’ felt dismissive and self-important, being clever in response felt inappropriate.

He instead turned around and just hugged Dan.

Dan, taken by surprise by this, just stood there blinking before finally hugging Phil back.

“I want you to be happy,” Phil said finally.

“Right now,” Dan said, “I am.”

 

***

 

“Oh my god, Phil!” Dan gasped.

His tone was a bit alarming, so Phil turned his head quickly. “What is it?”

Dan was pulling something awkwardly long down from the top shelf of his wardrobe. “Look! I thought I’d lost this!”  _ Oh. The gasp was excitement, not fear or pain. Good! That’s good. _ Phil breathed.

It was a 49-key Yamaha synthesizer, its silver faceplate covered in list of instruments it could playact as and the numbers you had to punch into the keypad to use them. Phil could see it wasn’t particularly hefty, but it wasn’t a silly child’s plaything either.

“The keys aren’t weighted and I honestly spent half my time messing with the sound effects to make sex noises, but oh my god! This thing got me through so much bullshit.”

Dan put the keyboard on the floor and hurried back to the wardrobe. He lifted his hand up and excitedly felt around the wardrobe shelf for the power adapter. Once he found it, he giggled mock-maniacally and plugged the keyboard in.

“Alright, now the test.”

Dan sat cross-legged on the floor, flipped the power switch, and saw the LED display light up.

“Yes!” he shouted, putting his fists in the air. He tried a few keys experimentally, and the sounds of tinny, synthesized piano emerged from the single speaker on the side. “Holy shit, it still works.”

Phil watched while Dan’s fingers tickled the cheap plastic keys, playing a vaguely familiar melody. He folded his arms and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to place it. He opened his eyes and shook his head.

“Where do I know that from?” Phil muttered under his breath.

“Hm?” Dan picked his head up.

“That song, I  _ know _ I know it from somewhere.”

Dan just smirked and kept playing it, looking at Phil.

“I’m not gonna tell you,” Dan said mischievously. “I’m gonna make you guess.”

Phil scoffed. “That’s just mean.”

Dan didn’t reply, he just hummed along to the melody, grinning that ridiculous grin.

“I wanna say it’s from a game.”

Dan raised his eyebrows and nodded, urging Phil to keep going down that path.

“Is it Final Fantasy?”

Dan nodded again.

“Seven?”

Dan smiled. He knew Phil was going to guess it.

“Oh! Oh from the date at the Gold Saucer!”

Dan stopped playing and clapped his hands. “Yay!”

“So you play Final Fantasy games too?”

“Well, I mean.. Japanese RPGs are really the best thing in the world for someone who wishes they were someone else. I played a lot of Final Fantasy 7 when I was a kid.”

“Did you beat it?”

“Took me ages, but yeah. You?”

“Yeah. Thanks to the help of internet walkthroughs!”

“Who was your favorite character?”

“Yuffie! She was adorable.”

“Oh my god, she  _ would  _ be your favorite. She annoyed me so much.”

“Who was your favorite?”

“Honestly? Sephiroth.”

Phil nodded. Dan didn’t need to elaborate, really.

“Actually,” Dan continued, “The funny thing is, when I was younger I wanted to get a tattoo of one black angel wing on my back because of him. And… also because I’d grown to hate my scars, especially the big one. I was thinking of getting that one wing on the right side of my back to cover it up.” He breathed and looked at Phil. “These days, I’m really glad I didn’t end up doing it.”

“I'm glad too. Your scars are part of who you are. And... that makes them... well, beautiful.”

Dan gave a warm grin but wished he'd put makeup on to hide the blushing. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of you calling me beautiful."

"I hope you never do."

 

***

 

“Dan? What’s this?”

Dan looked over at Phil to see a large teddy bear in his hands. His breath hitched and he blinked rapidly. “Oh, uh. That um. That’s just… my dad gave me that when I was really little.”

“Oh,” Phil said nervously. He handed Dan the bear and didn’t say anything else.

Dan looked at the bear. Its fur had become roughed up and the lettering on the tag - “Your Papa Forever” - faded to a pale orange-yellow color over the years. Eventually, perhaps, that ink - the last thing his father ever said to him, in a way - would be gone.

“I wish I knew how to find him,” he muttered.

“Hm?”

“My dad, he um… He left when I was really little. And… this is all I have of him. Aside from my last name. It’s odd, I don’t even remember his first name. I can’t recall his face anymore, either.”

“Could you ask your mum his name? Or… maybe there are photos...?”

Dan shook his head.

Phil wanted so badly to say the right thing, the one magic thing that would make Dan feel better. Something that wasn’t a platitude or a false reassurance or a clumsy attempt to relate when he absolutely couldn’t. Sadly, he was only human, so he gave his best. “I’m sure you’ll find some way to track him down,” he said.

“I hope so,” Dan replied wistfully, hugging the teddy bear.

 

***

 

“Holy shit, Phil.  We fucking did it. Once you tape that box shut, I am all packed up.”

“Nice,” Phil said and put his hand up for a high-five, which Dan gladly supplied.

“Boys!” Alice’s voice called. “Dinner!”

Dan couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten dinner happily with his entire family. It had been ages since his mother had been there and wasn’t at work or therapy; even when she’d been home in the past, dinner was often tense.

But tonight, the optimism and joy around the table almost made Dan wish he wasn’t moving out. It was a great last dinner to have at home, surrounded by people who loved him, and who he loved. If he could have bottled that evening up, so he could relive it over and over, he would have.

Alice was smiling her warm, infectious smile, making lighthearted jokes about Dan and Phil flirting with each other. Marina was talking about the things she’d written in her gratitude journal. Dan talked about his costume and staging ideas for the tour and what songs would be on the setlist. Phil told embarrassing stories about his childhood. The food was delicious, which was honestly just a bonus.

Dan felt like he was surrounded by real, actual family for the first time since he was a toddler. It was a feeling he hadn’t expected to ever feel again.

He looked at Phil, who was talking about being excited to see Dan’s new place.

A silent tear slid down Dan’s smiling cheek.

“Are you okay, Daniel?” Marina asked.

He looked over at her and smiled. “You know what, Mum?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry for teasing you for crying at the end of Zombieland,” he laughed and sniffled. “I think I understand now.”

Marina only smiled knowingly in response.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "forgiveness" by Ayumi Hamasaki.
> 
> Next chapter, we're finally back to the interview set with Shane. :)
> 
> True story: The end of Zombieland did indeed make me cry, I'm not joking.
> 
> [Make some tumblr notes happen if you like the fic!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177642973908/new-chapter-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1750)


	18. Interview: Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan tells Shane about some important events in his life & career that occurred at the start of 2012, including a few pivotal events that changed the course of his entire life afterward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaay interview time! This chapter underwent so many edits & iterations, I'm amazed it's coherent at all... that said, if you notice anything obviously duplicated or seemingly nonsensically ordered DO let me know and I'll edit it, lol.
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's the tumblr post for liking & reblogging!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177793424098/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1850)

“Oh.  _ My _ god,” Shane said, his mouth agape.

“Yup,” Dan said.

“I mean… come on. Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Dan confirmed. “I honestly am not sure which of us was the bigger idiot, but… Yeah.”

“You guys were practically married even before your tour started!”

“We were, yeah.”

“Oh my god. Just… oh my god. I think really the funniest thing is that all those tabloid photos of the two of you together at either his place or your place were a hundred percent real, but when you told the press you two weren’t together, that wasn’t a lie! I mean that blows my mind!”

“Yeah, honestly I think  _ I _ was the only person who didn’t know I was in a relationship with Phil.”

Shane gave in to the laugh that wanted to burst from his mouth. “Wow.” He breathed and regained his composure.

“And he came with me to the apartment after dinner that night, just to see what it looked like, and… the comments he gave on it, you’d think he was the one moving in.”

“What kind of comments?”

“A lot of comparison to his place, you know? Like ‘aw, this flat has higher ceilings’ or ‘I wish I could paint my walls this color, this is much better.’ There was a lot of subtle hinting that he wanted to live at my place instead of his. His place had bigger windows though, and that’s a thing with Phil. He  _ loves _ big windows. I tend to prefer darkness, so. My place couldn’t accommodate that particular, uh...” Dan cut himself off with a fond giggle and a glance in Phil’s direction.

“Did he like, help you unpack?” Shane asked playfully, talking with his hands a bit. “Sorry, I’m just loving the domesticity of the whole thing!”

“No,” Dan said sweetly. “There wasn’t time or energy for it that night -- don’t look at me like that, I know what you’re thinking and  _ no  _ we didn’t do anything that night -- and the next day was a work day, so no. He had a lot to do with Martyn having stepped down, so he couldn’t take days off beyond the usual weekends and holidays. I really respected that he insisted on taking weekends off though. He worked late on weekdays anyway, but he also knew the value of personal time. I always looked up to him for that.”

“Ah yes, is work-life balance something you’re... not so great about?” Shane asked with a smirk. By this point, Dan’s inability to take work at a healthy, steady pace was well-documented in articles, videos, and even in his own lyrics.

“Oh come on, Shane,” Dan laughed. “At this point it’s no secret. I’m the worst at it. And the 2012 tour was especially bad. Up to that point, working all the time wasn’t so physically and mentally damaging for me because it was mostly just… writing, going to meetings -- and yes there are so many meetings which is something I’ve never seen another musician or singer or band talk about in interviews. Which makes sense because wow, boring. So... yeah, being kind of a workaholic was no problem really. But a tour, that… that’ll really kick your arse, especially when you have breathing issues anyway.”

“And you released  _ Cynicism _ during the tour!”

“Oh god. Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll be going into that.”

“Yeah, there’s more early 2012 Dan to cover. I mean the beginning of 2012 was pretty eventful for you.

“Yeah, for better or for worse. Um. Obviously there’s the good, which everyone knows.”

“You were nominated for two BRIT awards, yeah?”

“Yeah. Didn’t win, but oh my god, getting nominated was incredible. I don’t think I ever really fully internalized that I was nominated for anything. Being there felt like a dream, really. I know that’s sort of a cliche phrase but honestly I was so exhausted that particular day, it actually did feel like I was dreaming.” Dan laughed at the memory of attending the BRIT awards, being interviewed on the red carpet, and being sure he sounded like an idiot but being unable to stop rambling nonsensically. Watching videos of the ceremony and red carpet event later on, he was surprised at how normal he actually looked and sounded.

“And the bad news that you got around the same time, of course…”

“Yeah, not long after the awards, I learned that Nana’s health was… Y’know.” Dan bit the inside of his cheek. “My mum called me and told me Nana had stage 3 lung cancer, not just asthma like they’d told me before. And she dropped the bomb on me that… they’d found a tumor ages before, which they didn’t tell me about. But they’d thought surgery had taken care of it. This was an apparent relapse. Of a cancer I didn’t even know my grandma had.”

“Oh holy shit,” Shane muttered.

“The emotions I felt in that moment were so extreme - I mean, it was this deluge of… like… anger at the doctors for not curing her before, betrayal from my mum, fear of losing Nana, regret that I’d moved out… So… I sort of short-circuited, and I did the thing again, y’know. Ran and hid. Didn’t show up at rehearsals, didn’t answer my phone, just sat in my apartment and wrote. Barely ate. Didn’t even bathe. What was the point? But then Chris, knowing me like he did, came over and was just like, ‘you can’t keep doing this, Dan. There are people who worry about you and who love you. You can take bereavement days, you can take all the mental health days you want, but you have to let someone know where you are.’ And I knew he meant it. He talked me back into rejoining the world, but I was in a daze for ages afterward. Rejoining the world was easier said than done.”

“Was it easier to handle the tour once you were back in your groove?”

“The tour was never going to be easy, ill grandmother or no. My breathing issues made things very difficult. And expensive, too.”

“How so?”

Dan sighed. “Well… I honestly couldn’t sing for the entire length of the concert. I really tried, but very early on in rehearsals it became quite clear that I didn’t have the capacity for it physically. That had a ripple effect through the entire, like… approach, like the whole way of thinking about the tour. I felt like not being able to sing live was cheating my audience somehow, so I did everything imaginable to make up for that. So one thing I did was… I sang in the rehearsal space with the band to do pre-recorded “live” versions of a few songs. Just the particularly hard ones.”

“So like the ones with higher notes and stuff?”

“You’d be surprised actually. A lot of the ones with high notes are actually not too bad. It’s the ones with less time between lines that are hard. ‘Surreal,’ for instance. I lip synced that one for most of the tour, even though it’s pretty low, just because there’s not enough time to take a breath.”

Shane nodded.

“So yeah… And we just did those lip sync tracks in one take so they still sounded live, you know, ‘cause I didn’t want the audience to come and hear the album versions they could listen to at home whenever they wanted. But… it still sort of felt dishonest to just have me and the band up there lip-syncing and miming. And that’s… so not in line with my brand. So I thought, y’know, make it a  _ show. _ I already knew I was going to make it visually interesting, but the main reason it had the scale it did is because I was trying to give the audience something more than just me performing the songs in cool outfits with dancers behind me. I put a lot of thought into the costumes and staging design and set list, trying to tell a story.”

“And that way, the show was more of you than just the song lyrics.”

“Exactly. If people like my music because I’m expressing myself, then I want to make sure they’re seeing a show that’s also me expressing myself. But the thing is… it cost a  _ lot _ of money to do that. It wasn’t like, industry-record-setting expensive at all. Far from it. But for how small the label still was, it was really expensive. Phil and Martyn both pulled in every favor they could, promising people that they’d get paid after the tour.”

“And they agreed?”

“Most of them did, yes. They all knew the Lesters either because of the store, or maybe they’d helped with the newer artists. But Phil already had a very good reputation at this point. If Phil says he’s going to pay you, he’s going to. He keeps his promises. And they all knew that.”

“Wow.”

“And everyone who’d worked with me already agreed to come on board, too. We asked them first of course because that way nobody would have to do spec work to prove their skills. Phil doesn’t like making people do spec work if he can’t pay them for it. And in the end most of the team already understood my brand and my way of thinking. I did a lot of things myself too, I was very hands-on. That made all the creative work go much faster. But anyway… Yeah, the tour basically was what it was because of my breathing. And Phil hasn’t ever said it outright but I think if basically every show hadn’t sold out, it would have been a massive disaster for Lester Music.”

Shane didn’t say anything for a moment, and merely sat staring straight ahead, looking stunned. “Wow, I’m just… These people all  _ really _ believed in you to do that. That’s amazing.”

“Yeah… I’m honestly in awe of how oblivious I was. Like I was so buried in the work of all of it, I didn’t ever really stop to think ‘holy crap, all these people are helping me create this perfect concert of my dreams and they don’t even know if they’re going to get paid.’”

“Did you expect the tour to fail?”

“Honestly? Sort of. I knew the album had a top 5 debut on the charts, but I didn’t realize that it was hanging on in the top 10 for so long afterward. I didn’t have any idea until later that um, on the Independent albums chart specifically, it was number 2 right under Adele for like two or three months!”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously! I had no idea. I didn’t pay too much attention to my own sales at the time, is the thing. The numbers just stressed me out. I knew how much of a perfectionist I was and I knew that, like… When I was younger I always wanted to know success metrics after I made a commercial, I always wanted to know the TV ratings for things I did, and I  _ needed _ the numbers to be high. So when it came to my music, I tried really hard to ignore them. So yeah, part of me was pretty sure like, five people would come to each show and then my career would just be over!” Dan laughed at himself.

“But you still put so much work into it?”

“Well yeah. I wanted to, at least, take what seemed to be this once in a lifetime opportunity and make the most of it. I wasn’t going to go halfway on this. My thinking at the time was, y’know, maybe this will be my only tour. I don’t want to have a single regret about it. And that extended to the singing. Honestly, I tried. I really did try. But some songs had to get those fake-live vocal tracks. And for the rest, we brought Doug over to the rehearsal space to help me do some exercises, and he came along on the tour to make sure I wasn’t singing in a way that would make things worse. I had a physician come along as well, just in case anything happened. And… something happened literally the first day of the tour! Not related to my voice, but I got injured before the show.”

“Ooohh,” Shane gasped. “I remember, the first show of your tour started super late and we never learned why!”

“Well guess what!”

“I am honored, after 8 years you’re finally talking about what happened and I’m the first person to hear it.”

“It is actually relevant to the future of my career, to be honest. This is one of those things that I knew I wanted to talk about when we were planning this interview.” Dan cleared his throat. “Okay, so… it actually started long before the first tour date. During rehearsals. In late Winter or early Spring, I got a pretty nasty cold and I… eh, I did the typical stupid thing most people do. I took care of myself  _ okay, _ but probably didn’t take as much time off as I should have. Like I lost my voice one day, didn’t sing that day, but still came to the rehearsal space and checked on the dancing and the band. Eventually of course my cold went away, but… one day during band rehearsals I heard this like… not like a ringing in my ear, more like a pulsating, pounding sort of thing. In my left ear. My first thought was that my ear monitor was acting up, you know? So I had them -- uh, the sound tech -- adjust the levels. But that sound was still there. I um… I’d lose my place in the song, you know? It was really distracting. And when the song was done, I took my monitor out and the sound was still there. Put earplugs in, it was still there. So clearly this wasn’t external, this was my ear. Phil insisted I go to the doctor about it. Doctor looks at my ear, I talk about my cold, and he diagnosed me with an ear infection. Made sense, my ear had hurt when I was sick, but the pain eventually went away so I didn’t think anything of it. He asked if I was exposing myself to loud noises, and I told him that we were rehearsing for this tour, and he told me that, y’know, on top of the ear drops he was prescribing, I really needed to, y’know… not be rehearsing so much, I needed to not go on tour right then, basically. Or he couldn’t guarantee my ear would ever fully heal. Of course with so much money and so many man hours put into this show, I couldn’t cancel it. I just couldn’t. So we postponed the first few tour dates, moved them to the end of the tour, but we couldn’t do that with enough of them really. I should have postponed 4 or 5 shows, but I could only do two. I was worried at first, but then my ear issues seemed to fade away. I kept the volume as low as I reasonably could on that ear monitor and did my best really. But then, a couple of weeks later, we were doing dress rehearsals.“ Dan’s mouth tightened up and his eyes look pained.

“It came back?”

“It did, but worse. First I got dizzy onstage during practice. I panicked a bit and sat down, acted like I was just getting tired. I hid my face under the hat I was wearing so the crew couldn’t tell I was holding back tears, but they honestly could probably hear it when I was singing. And then later on, in the middle of a song, my left ear just… quit on me. You know how when your ear suddenly starts ringing and it feels like half of reality has sort of disappeared or turned into white noise?”

Shane nodded, making a sound of agreement.

“It was like that, but I had the added anxiety of remembering what my doctor said, that my ear might never heal if I kept doing this. So I was really scared. I ran off stage while the dancers kept practicing their routine. But Phil and Chris followed me to see what was wrong, Chris said I looked pale as a ghost and I told them, panicking, y’know, ‘I can’t hear out of my left ear. I can’t hear anything.’ Phil told everyone to go home that day and he and Chris took me out for tea so I could relax. Phil probably had so much else to do but he stayed with me to help distract me, and Chris made me laugh like he always does. I was really thankful right then for Chris, because Phil wasn’t going to be able to just follow me on tour, you know? So knowing Chris would be there made me calm down a bit. And my hearing came back the next morning, so the rest of the rehearsals went fine.”

“Oh wow. So then, what happened the first day of the tour?”

“So… two things that are really important for humans to keep their sense of balance are your general circulation -- which, of course, mine sucks -- and the fluid in your inner ear, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well. Alright let me set the scene for you. The first show was in London, at a venue with a capacity of like 2000 people, or something? A bit more? Anyway, the stage we designed had a part that jutted out into the audience a bit, and in the middle of it there’s a hydraulic mechanism that pushes part of the stage up so I can emerge from the floor. Definitely too much for such a small venue, but I’m extra, don’t judge me. Anyway, the piece of the stage is lowered, and I’m above it. I’m exhausted from overwork, and suddenly my left ear goes out on me. I’m trying to play it cool because there’s too much to get done before the doors open, but my vision starts to go black around the edges thanks to, y’know… panic just exacerbating my exhaustion. And I suddenly just fall into the gap in the floor. I barely even knew what was happening until I hit the ground hard, like I landed on my butt and it really hurt. One of the stagehands is up on the stage and he calls down, asks if I’m alright, and again, still playing it cool, I’m like ‘yeah, fine,’ and he walks around the gap to get closer to me, and crouches down to reach me and help me up. Unfortunately, I lost my footing on the structure, like, the scaffolding holding the stage up, you know? And I slipped and pulled that poor stagehand right down with me. He was fine, but the way he landed on me, the way my foot was positioned, I suffered a pretty nasty ankle sprain.”

“Oh god!”

“Yeah it was twisted really unnaturally. It looked… much worse than it was. But it was still  _ not _ okay!” Dan laughed. “So I was taken to A&E in a hurry… The crew put me in a van instead of an ambulance, and I asked why we weren’t calling 999, and... As we were pulling away from the venue, I could see everyone waiting outside already. And I knew why. We didn’t want to alarm them, you know? I was amazed though. The show wasn’t for hours but people were lined up, wearing t-shirts with my face and my lyrics on them. They had little signs they were holding up and showing each other, and… Phil had told me the show was sold out a few days earlier, but like... You can’t really imagine two thousand real people, you know? That’s just a number at that point. But… there they were. All these people, real  _ actual _ people, who came to see me.” Dan paused, looking misty-eyed. “Anyway, the wait to have a doctor look at my ankle was too damn long, and the pain was getting worse and worse and I could feel it swelling up, which did not help my impatience. A doctor finally looked at it, and he said it didn’t need one of those half-cast type things or anything like that, I just needed to keep off it, keep it supported. He gave me a brace for it and one of those walking boots, but of course it still hurt like hell so he gave me some painkillers. So I got back, and my tour physician insisted on pushing me around in a wheelchair even once I was back which made me feel like a little kid, but honestly just for how much faster it was to get around I’m kind of glad he did. Phil rushed up to me asking if I was okay, telling me that they were still debating whether to cancel the show or go on with it. And… the decision was mine, I had to choose. Was I gonna stand on that stage, and run across it and hurry to change costumes and all that and endure this pain, or was I going to cancel the show and disappoint the 2000 people who got tickets, many of whom were currently waiting outside? I made a snap judgment that the show must go on. Of course, I didn’t tell Phil how much my ankle hurt. He asked if I could walk okay, I said yeah, the wheelchair’s just, y’know… a precaution, trying to keep off it if I don’t  _ need _ to use it. He asked if I was sure and I was like ‘yeah, of course!’ because I’m a terrible person who lies. Anyway, I took the painkillers, got dressed... I tried to put my boots on over the brace but I couldn't get it to fit so I didn't use the brace at all. And Louise hurried to get my makeup done, and I got up on that stage like… an hour late.”

“Holy hell that’s stressful.”

“Yeah. And it freaking hurt, too. Because I took the painkillers so early, they were already wearing off a little over an hour into the show and I had to do the last almost half of it in just unbelievable pain.”

Shane gasped “What?!”

“Mm-hmm. But I kept smiling, I kept singing. Even when I was backstage doing costume changes, I didn’t show anyone how much I was hurting. I let the adrenaline of my first real concert ever carry me through as best as it could. Which... it was really hard to enjoy the buzz since I was using it for pain relief.”

“No one knew you were in so much pain?”

“No, no one knew.” Dan bit at the skin on one side of his thumbnail. “Jesus, if that isn’t a metaphor for my entire freaking life.”

“Let me ask you one more thing before you give me some juicy tour anecdotes,” Shane said, leaning in.

Dan smiled. “Sure, go for it.”

“You tour a lot. How’s your hearing now?”

Dan just shook his head. “It’s gone. Not long before this interview, actually, my doctor had a look at it and, yeah. It’s not fixable anymore. When he told me that I just… laughed. I knew what he was going to say before he even said it, to be honest. I’d put off getting surgery to fix the damage for so long. Classic procrastinator, ruining his life little by little, one act of neglect after another.” Dan shrugged. Shane noticed no tears in Dan’s eyes, no breaking in his voice. Just a face that said ‘oh well’ and a bitter smile on his face. This was a man who’d mourned this hearing loss ages ago.

“So that’s why you said this was relevant to your career going forward.”

“Yeah. I fully plan on continuing my career. I mean, I’m in good company. Lots of musicians are partially deaf and it doesn’t hold them back, so why should it hold me back?”

“God, you are just so fucking cool,” Shane said. “Oh my god, I have been swearing so much!” he exclaimed, picking his head up. “Sorry to my editor, you’re gonna have to do so much bleeping.”

Dan laughed.

“Okay. So the tour itself! It was just a UK tour, yeah?”

“At first, yes. But it was like, a month and a half.”

“And you and Anthony were pretty steady at this point?”

“Not really. Not yet. We weren’t officially a thing until awhile after. But we were seeing each other casually, whenever there was a free night on the road, we’d… enjoy each other’s company.”

“I do love that as a euphemism for fucking on the tour bus.”

“Thank you," Dan snickered. "And you’re swearing again.”

“Oh my god, I am completely useless right now.”

“I’m a bad influence on you.”

“You are. You’re the worst, Dan Howell. Okay. So anyway, talk about things that happened during your first tour! The album, the interviews, the shows, give me the goods.”

“Absolutely. The tour was… really transformative. A lot happened.”  Dan took a sip of his water, and thought about where to start.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Trauma" by Ayumi Hamasaki.
> 
> The events Dan describes in this chapter in regards to hearing loss and injury are based on real events that happened to Ayumi Hamasaki over the course of her first two tours. She suffered a cold & ear infection during the rehearsals for her 2000 tour and rescheduled some dates to accommodate recovery; her hearing first became alarmingly bad during rehearsals for her 2001 tour. She fell into a gap in the stage before the show on the first day of the latter tour only to have a crew member fall on top of her and injure her, and she did indeed perform on an injured ankle long after the painkillers had worn off that night. Her audience was closer to 40,000 people though, since the show was at Fukuoka Yahoo! Auctions Dome (just called Fukuoka Dome at the time) rather than a small music-oriented venue.
> 
>  
> 
> [Like/reblog on Tumblr](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/177793424098/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1850)


	19. Audience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the 2012 tour, Dan and Anthony finally become official. Meanwhile, Alice's condition worsens, but she finds a way to make Dan the happiest he's probably ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Man the last week or so has been busy as hell. Phanfic Every Day in September has hit quite the speed bump but I am writing at my usual pace again so yaaay. :)
> 
> There shouldn't be anything triggering in this chapter but there is a hospital visit and an obvious post-sex cuddle. So... yeah.
> 
> Mostly this is a happy chapter, it's just also headed toward a sad thing.
> 
> [Tumblr link is here, notes are awesome!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/178018764723/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1950) :D

“You have serious work-life balance problems,” Tom said with a laugh.

“You know what? I’m not gonna deny that!” Dan said with a smile in the recording booth.

The backing track for a song called “Never Ever” began to play, and Dan started singing in a quiet, breathy voice. Once the chorus kicked in, he belted out the words.

 _If you could only have one wish granted, tell me, what would you wish for?_  
_If you could only have one wish granted, tell me, what would you wish for?_  
_If someone up above was listening  
_ _What would you wish for if someone above was listening_

He liked how plain these lyrics seemed. It seemed like a simple question - “what do you wish for.” One day he’d realized that he didn’t dare wish for Phil because of how guilty he felt for wanting him, how shameful it would be for it to be known he slept with, and fell in love with, his boss. The second half of the chorus was about apprehension in the face of possible judgment, not hope for some omniscient presence to grant the wish in question.

He’d found some joy in hiding meaning in superficially simple words.

Dan had not only kept writing lyrics before and during tour rehearsals, but because he had access to a band and instruments, he was able to write the music too. He didn’t have to wait for Phil to supply him with demo compositions that fit the words he had in mind, he could just do it himself. Dan was exhilarated by the creative freedom this brought, but also overwhelmed by the task - he didn’t know the first thing about writing music, but he knew what he liked and what he’d like to listen to. So that’s what he wrote.

The new songs hopped from genre to genre, just as they had on his last album, but the new approach to composition & arrangement meant the album would hopefully be more cohesive. He wasn’t to the point where he was comfortable making a concept album, but the album did, in his mind, have a concept.

He already knew the title - _Cynicism._

The lyrics he’d written were, ironically, not about cynicism as an outlook. Rather, they were a criticism of the cynical side of himself. A side he was, funnily enough, quite cynical about. The whole idea of it made him laugh sometimes, so it struck him as perfect for his second album.

He knew recording this album during the tour was probably not the smartest thing. Tom wasn’t wrong - Dan was working constantly. But he felt like he was under the gun. His career had a time limit. As with the tour itself, Dan didn’t know if he’d ever have another chance. Especially with his hearing going out in one ear. Especially if touring was going to cause him injury. He had no idea how long all this would last.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Phil’s input on this album was minimal compared to _Stoicism._ Whenever Phil made a suggestion to the band, Dan would excitedly say he agreed and was just about to say the exact same thing. Whenever Dan made a suggestion, Phil confirmed his agreement with a bright smile.

For all intents and purposes, this album was produced almost entirely by Dan Howell himself. But when writing the liner notes, Dan still wrote “Produced by Phil Lester.”

“Why are you saying the album is produced by me?” Phil asked.

Dan simply shrugged and said “Because _I_ am. So that means the album is.”

 

***

 

About a quarter of the way through the tour was the show in Brighton.

The backstage area -- as it always was in the hour or two immediately before Dan went on -- was busy and crowded, full of members of the team saying “pardon” and “excuse me” to one another more than any other word or phrase.

Dan didn’t have a proper dressing room at most of the venues on this tour, since they were all too small for that. He changed behind a folding screen, taking his costumes off a rack that he’d had to assemble himself after Phil bought it for him on Amazon. As for makeup, Louise had a makeshift vanity set up, consisting of a folding table, an inexpensive wall decor style mirror she took off her own wall, and a bright desk lamp.

“Dan, you’ve got to stop blinking.”

“I know, it’s just so hard to relax!”

“Do you want me to teach you how to do it yourself?”

“No! What if I accidentally poke myself in the eye?”

“Mascara isn’t that hard, Dan. If a 12 year old girl can do it, you can do it.”

“I don’t trust myself. I’m a disaster.”

“One, you blink a lot. That hardly makes you a disaster. Two, if you don’t trust yourself, then please trust me and stop flipping blinking!”

Dan sighed, his hands folded in his lap, and tried to relax. He succeeded a bit more this time, but only because he’d had half a tour to do so.

“So how are things with Anthony?” Louise asked, her tone dripping with suggestion, hoping for juicy gossip.

“Good,” Dan said with the slightest smile and his mouth nearly closed, trying to keep his face mostly still while Louise made him up. “He’s taking me to dinner after the show tonight. Said he knew a nice place right by the beach.”

“So are you two official yet?”

“Not yet. It hasn’t come up though.”

“Maybe tonight he’s going to ask? Would explain why he’s taking you to a nice restaurant.”

“Or he could just be really into himself and wanting to show off his ability to pick a nice date location,” Dan said, wanting to scoff.

“You know, you really confuse me, Howell. You seem so keen on this guy sometimes but other times it’s like ‘oh how funny, the poor guy thinks he has a chance.’”

“I don’t mean to do that. I mean, honestly… I like him fine. I like him a lot, really. But… I don’t know.”

“No spark?” Louise stood up straight and looked at Dan’s reflection, then back at his face. “There we are.”

Dan looked in the mirror. “Perfect. And… honestly, when I’m actually with him, in person, there’s a spark. There’s a lot of spark. But as soon as I’m away from him for a little while, it’s like…”

“You suddenly remember everything that’s wrong with him.”

“Yes!” Dan sighs and shakes his head. “And honestly there’s nothing more wrong with him than any other human being. Nobody’s perfect.”

“Except Mr. Lester?” Louise said knowingly.

“What?”

“Mr. Lester. Phil. You’re into him. Everyone knows it.”

Dan snickered nervously. “I am not. That’s… that would be silly.”

Louise burst out laughing. “Oh come on, Dan! You practically have it tattooed on your forehead. Not that that’s a bad thing, plenty of entertainers have slept with their bosses.”

“You can tell we’ve slept together?”

Louise’s eyes widened before Dan even realized what he’d just admitted to.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Louise lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “No, I could not. _I_ was joking around. But _you_ have _actually_ slept with Phil Lester?!”

“Oh god Louise please don’t tell anyone please please I beg you _do not tell anyone!_ ”

“I would never, I promise! But seriously? When did this happen?”

“Um… which time?” Dan said tentatively.

Louise was near cackling. “Oh my word, Daniel James Howell, you naughty boy. I’m actually proud of you!” Her face suddenly became very serious. “Have you slept with him since you and Anthony started seeing each other, though?”

“Yeah, but very early on. I’d only been out with Anthony once. Christmas Eve. I was finally fully moved in to my new apartment, and I was showing Phil around and… it just sort of happened.”

“Oh-ho-ho,” Louise singsonged. “Had to try out the new bed, did we?”

“Um. Actually… yes. Yes, that’s exactly the conversation we had beforehand.” Dan muttered. “Holy hell. Anyway, after the new year, me and Anthony were seeing each other more often so I didn’t do anything with Phil anymore. I didn’t want to do anything like cheat on Anthony. Just in case maybe _he_ saw us as official even if I didn’t.” Dan sighed. “I felt so bad for Phil that I had to say no to him last time it looked like we might be about to sleep together. His face, like… he just… ugh.”

“What’s that I hear in your tone, Dan?”

“What? I’m not speaking with a ‘tone,’ I’m just telling you.”

“You sound regretful. Wistful, perhaps. Daydreamy.”

Dan just shrugged in reply.

“Do you have actual feelings for Phil? Like, not just a crush, not just being into him, but like--”

“Yeah.”

Louise raised her eyebrows.

“I’m in love with him,” Dan continued.

“Oh. Wow. That….”

“Sucks.”

“I was going to say ‘that’s rough’ or ‘that complicates things’ but... yeah.”

Dan nodded. “It sucks for both of us, actually.”

Louise’s mouth opened into an “oh” shape.

“He loves me too. But with Martyn having stepped down to be with Cornelia, Phil’s stuck.”

“This is actually the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. So then Anthony is… what, settling?”

“It started as revenge actually,” Dan said with a bitter smile. “Not my best moment. Now he’s a distraction.”

“Is it working?”

“Nope.”

Louise looked at her phone. “30 minutes to showtime. You ready?”

“Of course.”

“Dan!” they heard a man’s voice call from behind them.

“PJ! You made it!”

“Of course!”

“The crowd is going to lose their minds,” Louise said with a bright grin.

“I hope so!” PJ said. “When Dan asked me to come do this, I couldn’t resist.”

“You still remember your parts and all the words, right?”

“I do indeed.”

“Excellent.”

 

***

 

Dan was crouched under the platform jutting out from the stage. It was less than two meters off the ground, so for a good two minutes - which felt like thirty - Dan had to stay low and then slowly stand as the platform rose up to meet the height of the stage.

His legs were sore, but at least they didn’t feel like that first night in London. Admittedly, even now his ankle hadn’t fully healed yet. Far from it. But he’d had his boots altered to gave him more support, and that helped.

Because Dan only had an album’s worth of material to perform (which would have resulted in a very short concert), he padded out the set list with songs he loved, found meaningful, or was inspired by. For example, the show opened with an abridged cover of Nat King Cole’s “Nature Boy.” After he sang the lyric “This he said to me,” the audience gave him one of his favorite moments of every show. Since the entire crowd were familiar with the song, they took it upon themselves to finish a call-and-response that Dan hadn’t even planned for. They sang his favorite lines right at him:

 _The greatest thing you’ll ever learn  
_ _Is just to love, and be loved in return._

Dan couldn’t help but smile every single time it happened, and it ended up happening every single night of the tour.

 

***

 

After the main set was over, Dan came out for the encore segment at the end. This part of the show was more intimate. It was just him, the piano, and some storytelling for the audience. He felt like Tori Amos or Regina Spektor or something.

“So… The videos that have been playing on the screen all night were made by my good friend PJ, who you may know....”

The crowd cheered. Dan smiled.

“We were in a boy band together once upon a time.”

Chris walked on from stage left.

“Oh, hello, Chris! What’s up?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you were talking about HKL. I thought I’d come join you!”

“Oh really? Well, that’s kind of you…”

Dan smiled as the audience began screaming. He knew why. PJ had entered from stage right, roughly behind Dan.

“Sorry, um, I don’t mean to interrupt…” PJ said. “But I believe the topic at hand is relevant to me?”

The audience were completely insane at this point. Dan couldn’t hold in his laughter. Eventually, the crowd finally calmed enough for him to speak.

“So since this is our tour date in PJ’s current hometown, I thought, hey, let’s sing something together, you know? HKL never went on tour, so it’s like, how many opportunities am I going to get to sing with both of them?”

Applause and cheers. Dan hoped this feeling would never get old.

“Okay, but before we do,” PJ said, “I have to get sappy real quick. Dan, I am so insanely proud of you. The show tonight was incredible, and you’re a massive talent, and you’re going to be playing for crowds much bigger than this pretty soon. I know it. I _know_ it. You are a star, you are a gift to the world of music, and I look forward to seeing how you do in the future.”

Dan, caught off guard and trying not to cry, hid his face. The audience cheered encouragingly, endeared by his shyness.

“Aww, don’t cry little angel!” Chris said.

There were some shrieks from some members of the audience just then. Mostly girls, from the sound of it.

Dan took a breath. “Alright senpai, shut up,” he said playfully. More screams from the girls.

He played a few quiet chords as he sang the beginning lines of “Cappuccino.” The audience applauded enthusiastically as soon as they recognized it. Singing the song with Chris and PJ felt so right for that moment in his life and career. It felt as though now, finally, HKL’s chapter was properly closed. Now he could treat PJ and Chris as real friends and not merely former bandmates and current collaborators.

 

***

 

“This place really is beautiful,” Dan said. “You did a good job picking it out.”

This particular place stayed open until 1 AM but wasn’t a particularly crowded “night life” sort of place. It was nearly midnight, and patrons were at the bar inside, drinking and laughing and not minding the pop singer and his -- date for the night? Boyfriend? Booty call? Dan wished he knew for sure -- on the private terrace. But it wasn’t loud, it wasn’t crowded. It had the exact right atmosphere for a restaurant overlooking the beach. And the exact right atmosphere for Dan to actually enjoy himself. It was almost as though Anthony had been paying attention - fancy that.

Dan listened to the waves and felt the breeze in his hair. The terrace lights put halos around him and Anthony. And the dark sky as a backdrop for the whole thing added to his calm, serene feeling. He expected to be irritated and exhausted after a long show, but Anthony had pleasantly surprised him in every possible way.

“I um… I actually made these reservations as soon as the tour date here was announced.”

“Thinking ahead, very nice.”

“And… I’m glad I did, because it occurs to me that you and I haven’t made it explicit that we’re, you know…”

“Exclusive?”

“Yeah. And I was wondering if you wanted to be.”

 _Oh thank god,_ Dan thought.

“Sure,” he replied. He’d been eager for Anthony to ask about this, and yet he found it wasn’t difficult to sound cool about the whole thing.

“Excellent,” Anthony said with a smile. “To us, then?” He lifted his glass.

“Yeah,” Dan said, conjuring up a smile from somewhere. “To us.”

Anthony got up to use the toilet before they left. Dan’s phone buzzed while he was alone at the table. Someone was calling him _now_ of all times? Concerned, he looked at the screen.

It was his mother. At nearly midnight.

Something was very wrong.

 

***

 

Dan lay in Anthony’s arms in his hotel room that night. It had been a much slower, more romantic sort of sex now that they were “official.” Anthony was big on eye contact tonight and Dan came away from it satisfied and feeling, dare he say it, loved.

But as they came down from their respective highs and snuggled, with Dan as the little spoon to Anthony’s big one, reality invaded Dan’s mind.

“Um…” he started.

“What’s up, love?”

“My uh… my mum called earlier tonight.”

“Everything okay?”

Dan shook his head. He wondered why no tears were starting to form. “My Nana…” Dan said quietly. “My grandma, I mean. Um. Her cancer got upgraded to stage four.”

Anthony held Dan tighter.

“Do they know… like... how long?”

Dan shook his head. “Not long though.”

“Do you need to go?”

Dan shook his head again. “Not yet. Not now. Right now I just need you to hold me so I don’t have to think about it.”

Anthony obliged. He kissed the back of Dan’s head. Dan closed his eyes, fighting off his anxiety with everything he had in his emotional arsenal. Eventually, the fight exhausted him, and he finally drifted off to sleep.

 

***

 

Since Dan had a few days off from touring and Brighton wasn’t _too_ far from home all things considered, he headed up to the hospital in London first thing the next morning.

“Hey, Nana.”

Dan was gently stroking Alice’s thumb as her eyes opened. “Daniel!” she said with a bright smile. Her eyes were awake and aware, she spoke as energetically as ever. If she weren’t so thin, and connected to more tubes than you’d find in the plumbing section of a hardware store, you’d never know anything was wrong.

Dan couldn’t help but smile back. “How’re they treating you here?”

“They’re very kind, actually. They let me watch Bake Off on Tuesday nights and everything!”

Dan chuckled. “You and your silly Bake Off.”

“Don’t you mock me, that show is going to go down in history as the greatest thing to come to British television since Doctor Who!”

Dan shook his head, smiling fondly. “Well, I reserve the right to think you’re crazy.”

“I suppose you’ve earned that right, what with all your big rock star success.”

“Rock star? Nana, I’m hardly a rock star. The venues I’m playing at are tiny.”

“You are most definitely a rock star. Don’t you watch the telly? There are all these news reports about Lester Music being such a fast-rising record label, and your sales numbers always come up.”

“My sales numbers?”

“Yes! Apparently you’re responsible for 40% of everything your label makes, even now they’ve signed so many other artists. So these big companies like Time Warner and Defranco Media looking are into buying the label, and that’s entirely because of you!”

Dan blinked. Phil hadn’t mentioned any of this to him. Possibly because he’d barely spoken to Phil since the tour began, but regardless, this was all out of the blue to Dan, who couldn’t imagine anything more dull than looking at the Business section of the newspaper. “Wait… what?”

Alice just snickered, which segued into coughing. She hit a button to call the nurse in. An attractive young man opened the door to check on her.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Could I get a glass of water, please?”

“Of course.” He nodded and walked out.

“Oh my goodness,” Alice said. “That nurse, he’s a cute one. Seeing a face like his makes this whole hospital thing far easier to bear.” She leaned in and smirked. “And his rear-end doesn’t hurt, either!”

“Nana!” Dan said with a playful scandalized laugh. “You can’t say stuff like that or they won’t let you watch Bake Off anymore!”

Alice chuckled, holding in her laughter lest she lapse into another coughing fit. “Oh, Daniel. I’m so glad you’re here. You’re good for me.”

Dan wanted to go into his usual self-deprecating deflections in the face of that compliment, but he stopped himself. “Thanks, Nana. You’ve always been good for me too.”

Suddenly it hit him that she was going away. It wasn’t anything so concrete as “she’s going to die,” or even “this might be the last time I ever see her.” It was simply a feeling of loss, like a hole had been carved into his heart and the cavern walls were collapsing.

He wanted to cry. He desperately wanted to cry, but he held it in.

The nurse returned with some water, helping prop Alice up on her pillows a little.

“Anything else I can get you, or are you okay for now?”

“I’m okay for now, thank you.”

Dan watched the nurse walk away. He did indeed have a nice butt. Dan was glad of the sudden urge to giggle.

“You seem distant,” Alice said to him.

“Gee, I wonder why?” Dan said sarcastically. “You’re only, y’know, the most important person in the world to me. No big deal seeing you like this.”

Alice smirked. “I will miss your wit.”

And then, Dan’s tears started to fall. “Don’t say that,” he struggled to say. “You’ll be alright.”

“Oh, Daniel, we both know we’re well past that sort of optimism now. It happens to everyone, you know. Now’s just my time. I know you haven’t been a believer in a very long time, but please have comfort in knowing that I’m not afraid. I believe I’m going home to see my God. And I’ll put in a good word for you.”

Dan chuckled between sniffles. It was true, he wasn’t a believer nowadays the way he had been as a child. But it was touching to know Alice had every intention of making sure he’d be eternally happy. Just as she’d always made sure of during her time on Earth.

“I dunno, I don’t think he’d let me in anyway.”

“You bet he would! You’ve struggled through so much, but you always try to do the right thing. You never use your pain as an excuse to lash out or neglect people. That’s more than one can say about a lot of folks.”

Dan looked skeptical.

“Daniel, look at me. You are a magnificent person. You know what else I’ve seen on the news? Street interviews with fans of yours. You know what they say?”

“What?”

“That your music saved them. That your words made them feel validated. I told you, didn’t I? You were put on this earth to make people feel less alone. And you’re already doing that. And I could not be more proud of you.”

Dan’s eyes were overflowing now. Alice reached for the tissues on her bedside table and handed him one.

He shook his head. “I didn’t know, I mean… I try so hard not to look at things online, you know? I’m so scared of people saying terrible things about me.”

“It’s worth facing that fear, angel. I look at your Facebook, you know. I see what they say. And they love you. Daniel, they love you so much. And they’re so grateful to you.”

Dan nodded, wiping his nose.

“Thanks, Nana.”

“Anytime, love.” She made a thinking face. “Perhaps you should look up video from the news reports that talk about you. I bet it would make your year.”

 

***

 

When he got to his apartment, he did just that.

It was a bit of an internal battle, deciding whether or not he should look. But ultimately, the desire to internalize what his grandmother had been telling him prevailed. He went to YouTube first, where a Dan Howell fan account -- there were fan accounts! -- had uploaded a short video from the news that had clearly been filmed off the television with their phone. The video quality was crap, but the audio was understandable.

 

“--times have a hard time trusting people, and his songs make me feel like I’m not the only one.”

“I have such a hard time with unrequited love. ‘Monochrome’ is my theme song.”

“He’s just so honest, you know? And it’s not just the words, you can hear it in his voice too.”

“He’s my fashion icon!”

“I love the metaphors he uses. They’re so brilliant.”

“My anxiety is terrible, but I see him and I think, hey, if he can be successful with anxiety, maybe I can be.”

 

Dan breathed in. He was in awe. This was so humbling. He suddenly wished it were possible to talk one-on-one with every fan at every concert. He was floored to not only know a few thousand people were big enough fans to see him live, but also the depth to which he’d positively affected them.

Feeling energized and brave, he switched to Facebook to see posts on his official page. Essentially, messages to him.

One person worked up the courage to ask out their crush thanks to “Monochrome.”

Another person felt resolved to be there for their best friend because of “Endless Sorrow.”

“Time Is a Reckless Driver” helped someone deal with a breakup.

“A Song For…” helped someone come to terms with childhood emotional abuse, and they finally started seeing a therapist for it.

The stories went on and on.

He kept steeling himself, waiting for a negative message to show up and kill his positive mood. He expected at some point he’d come across one and suddenly doubt himself. But somehow, he didn’t see any. Not a single one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "AUDIENCE" by Ayumi Hamasaki.  
> Lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are from "NEVER EVER" by Ayumi Hamasaki.
> 
> The next chapter.... bring tissues. For both good and bad reasons, actually. It's gonna be a lot.
> 
> [Click here to like or reblog on tumblr!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/178018764723/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-1950)


	20. ¿Dónde quiere estar mi alma viajero?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan works on & then releases his second album before the final night of the tour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sincerely sorry for the end of this chapter. Have tissues on hand.
> 
> (tw: off-screen character death)
> 
> [Tumblr link](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/178190193928/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-2050)

Over the course of the tour, Dan was having his photo taken more and more when he wasn’t expecting or inviting it, both by paparazzi and sneaky fans. He was thankful beyond words for the fans who came up and asked for selfies directly, even if the interaction did put some pressure on him, just because at least he had some control over how he looked in the photo and how he behaved during the interaction. But with other fans taking secret creep shots, and tabloid publications paying better and better money for candids from the paparazzi, it wasn’t long before he was on edge wherever he went. He looked over his shoulder twice as much, spent four times as much time in front of his bedroom mirror, and ventured out in public a third as often.

Websites picked apart his outfits (sometimes showing how to “get the look” for less money at TK Maxx, other times criticizing Dan for wearing  _ that _ pattern with  _ those _ shoes). One magazine had a posture expert -- a posture expert! -- tear apart Dan’s tendency to hunch forward when he wasn’t paying attention. And, naturally, his relationship with Anthony was well documented. That last one proved to be quite a double-edged sword. 

Given his tendency to wear makeup and his general love of fashion, the gay community had already latched onto Dan Howell. But being seen out in public with a man in a romantic capacity had launched him to true “gay icon” status in a hurry. Dan was honored, of course, but the responsibility was a bit much for him at times. Having not had much time in his later teen years to explore his sexuality without it being incredibly emotionally taxing to do so, he wasn’t even sure if he was actually homosexual  _ per se _ \- he definitely thought certain women were attractive, too - so he had a certain degree of impostor syndrome about the whole thing. Nevertheless, if the gay community appreciated Dan Howell, then he was glad of that. He did make a mental note to try and learn more about the LGBTQIA+ community before talking publicly about his sexuality, just to avoid any potential missteps, but the prospect of  _ ever _ doing enough research to feel qualified to speak on it was rather daunting.

For a brief time, Dan was concerned about how Anthony was coping with all the extra attention. But he seemed to enjoy it, however much it sometimes exhausted him. When one major website called Anthony “the handsome one” between the two of them, he gloated about it for days, not realizing at first that Dan’s feelings were genuinely hurt by it. As soon as he noticed, however, he started calling Dan “handsome” as a pet name at every given opportunity. This made Dan smile, and that made Anthony happy.

 

***

 

Once the album was recorded, Dan was able to work on the jacket art. Between the Southampton and Cardiff dates, Dan and his team stopped over in London for the shoot. 

Of course, Dan himself thought up the concept for the cover art. He wanted to make it a statement on being in the public eye, the different faces famous people show, the stress it could place on them. He also thought a cheeky Diogenes reference would be hilarious, even if only to him. So the cover photo had him reclining in a bathtub, eyes closed, trying to block out the world, in front of a tall window that offered him a full view of a busy marketplace-style street. People outside would walk by and look inside while he did his best to ignore it.

The photo shoot was done in two parts and Photoshopped together, simply because finding photo space that could facilitate this concept was nearly impossible on such short notice. But Dan was picky. The cover had to be this. So Phil and the graphic design team made it happen.

Dan lay makeupless in a cold, hard clawfoot bathtub they’d rented (and paid an arm and a leg for movers to help bring into the photo studio), wearing nothing but his pants, trying to pretend three things: One, that the big green sheet outside the false window to his right was actually a busy marketplace full of pedestrians; two, that the bright light shining on him was sunlight, and three, that he was in any way comfortable.

“My neck hurts,” he whined, trying not to laugh. He’d needed to sit back a bit further than he’d like to, simply because at over 6 feet tall, his kneecaps peeked over the top of the tub if he slid down any further.

“Well, we had to get your knees out of the shot somehow.”

“Maybe I’m too tall for this concept to work,” Dan said with a chuckle.

“Here’s an idea,” the photographer said. “Sit up so I can get a few shots of you in the tub without your knees showing, then slouch down so we can get you looking actually relaxed, and I’ll Photoshop them together.”

Dan opened one eye to look at the photographer. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Nah. We gotta put the marketplace shots in the window anyway, yeah? That’s way more work. Adding this to it is no problem.”

“I’ll make sure you get paid for the extra time it takes. Definitely log it, okay?”

“Thanks, Mr. Howell. Alright, say cheese!”

Dan laughed. “Stop that! I’m trying to look relaxed. And cynical, don’t forget cynical.”

The photographer snapped a few shots with Dan sitting up and a few more with him sunk further into the tub, looking more relaxed. Once he was done with those, it was time for the back cover. “Alright, these ones are set,” he said happily. “You can head over to makeup!”

Dan nodded and got out of the tub, throwing on a dressing robe that was draped over a chair next to the camera, and walked over to Louise’s makeup chair while the photographer took the greenscreen down and wheeled the window panel around to the front of the tub. These photos, in which Dan would have makeup on, would be taken from the “outside” side of the false windows. People on the inside see Dan as he really is; people on the outside see the face he presents. The same concept as his first album, but this time done with a budget and a clearer idea of what he wanted.

“So how are things going, little bug?” Louise said as she got started making Dan’s face up. She had taken to calling Dan “little bug.” He didn’t know why, but he loved it.

“What things?”

“Have you heard about your Nana or anything?”

“No change. I’m gonna go see her tonight, and then again before the last show.”

“Just taking the opportunity any time you’re back in London?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. And how’s Anthony?”

“Better! Much better. He’s been calling me ‘handsome’ since that whole thing.”

“Aww!”

“I know. Such a sweetheart.”

“He’s not perfect but he clearly adores you.”

“Does he though? Honestly, sometimes I’m not sure. Like… it’s never his first instinct to be supportive or to listen. He always does eventually, but…”

“My mum used to say…” Louise said, painting Dan’s lips with dark red gloss, “...that who a person  _ really _ is, is their  _ second _ thought, not their first. ‘Cause your first thought is like, your habit, you know? It’s what you’ve been raised to think or what you’ve been conditioned to think. But that second thought? That’s after you’ve had a second to think about it and really evaluate what your priorities are.”

“Hm,” Dan said, wanting to say ‘that’s interesting’ but unable to talk properly.

“Oh, bugger. Too much. Do the BJ thing.”

The “BJ thing” was when Dan put a finger in his mouth, wrapping his lips around it, and then pulled it back out in order to get rid of excess lipstick too close to the inside of his mouth. This prevented Dan getting lipstick on his teeth, and was a trick he was most appreciative to learn.

Louise grabbed a tissue. “And now blot,” she commanded, holding the tissue in front of Dan’s face horizontally. Dan did as instructed. Louise painted some clear gloss over Dan’s lips to finish it up, and continued speaking.

“Anyway, the point is, Anthony does want to make you happy, I think. His first knee-jerk reaction to anything is to be selfish, yes, and sure he’s a bit….  _ slow _ sometimes. But as soon as he knows you need emotional support, he never fails to give it.”

“I don’t know, I feel like when Anthony is kind to me it’s more like his third or fourth or… seventh thought than his second.”

“Like I said, he’s a bit slow. But once he learns, it sticks.”

“True.”

“Anyway, you’re all set. Get back in that tub, mister.”

Dan got back in the tub, his head now on the opposite side because the window panel had been flipped, and he started posing again.

 

***

 

The album was released a month later, after Dan’s date in Manchester. Spotify had just launched in the United States, so Phil and Martyn made sure both the new album and  _ Stoicism _ were available to the U.S. as well.

Dan now had to balance the last few nights of the tour and album promotion, which meant TV appearances and radio interviews too.

His least favorite part of the TV appearances were needing to tell people all the tour dates were sold out, since the tour was planned before this surprise album was released. Luckily the tour was almost over at this point -- a date in Edinburgh, a date in Glasgow, and the two rescheduled dates, which took him to Reading and finally back to London.

The ironic thing was that London’s rescheduling required going to a new venue. This one was more than twice the size of the other one, with a capacity of 5,000 people. But due to Dan’s massive increase in popularity over the last few months, when ticket sales for the new venue opened up, they sold out within two hours.

For this show, scalping and reselling proved to be a serious problem. Phil and Martyn worked with the venue to do what they could. Hazel watched, listened, and learned as much as she could all the while.

 

***

 

When Dan walked into his grandmother’s hospital room the morning before his last show, she was all smiles, holding her phone horizontally and watching intently. Her favorite cute nurse was leaning over her by her bedside, looking at the phone with her.

“Oh, Dan! You’re here! The nurse was just showing me this interview you did.”

“Oh no,” Dan said, laughing. “How badly did I embarrass myself?”

“Not at all, angel! Come here. I want to show you my favorite part.”

Alice dragged the video back to a position about two minutes in while Dan took a place next to her.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” the nurse said and took his leave.

Dan saw himself, sitting casually on a stool, talking to the couple of very well-groomed talk show hosts.

“So who would you say has been the biggest influence on your life?” one host asked.

“Well, besides Phil Lester for agreeing to sign me?” Dan laughed. “I mean… my grandmother. Definitely. I think we all have times in our lives when we feel like everyone is saying no. That you can’t do this, you can’t do that. Either because it’s against the rules or you’re not talented enough or whatever. But my grandmother has always encouraged me. She’s always been there. And whenever I need a little push, she’s always the one to give it. When I don’t believe in me, she does. She’s my hero, honestly.”

Alice paused it. “I’m your hero!” she said with a bright smile.

Dan blushed a bit. “Well, I mean… yeah. You really are.”

“Oh, my little angel!” She grabbed Dan’s head with her weakened, shaking hands and gave him the sweetest, most embarrassing kiss on the forehead. If she had been wearing lipstick, Dan would have been proud to wear that mark for the entire show tonight.

Dan was all smiles, but he could see that Alice was starting to cry.

“Hey,” he said reassuringly. “Don’t cry, Nana.”

“I’m sorry, dear. It’s just… I’m so proud of you, and I’m so honored you’d tell the entire country you love your old grandma.”

“The honor’s all mine. I’d tell the world I love you from the top of Mount Everest, honestly. I’m lucky to have you.”

“Thank you.”

“Tonight’s the last show of the tour.”

“I wish I could see it.”

“We are filming it. You’ll be able to watch it. I’ll make sure a preliminary edit gets to you so you can see it before anyone else.”

“That means a lot to me. But I think we both know I won’t be around that long.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Fact is, I don’t think I _want_ to be around that long. I hate feeling so weak. It’s getting so hard just to smile. I’ve always been a smiler.”

“And you’ve always smiled for me when I couldn’t. Maybe you just used up all your smile energy on me.”

“Oh don’t you dare blame yourself for any of this. God decided it was my time, so it’s my time. Besides, smiling for you just made me smile all the more. Smiles beget smiles, angel! Don’t forget that.”

“See? Look, you still have wisdom to share. You can’t go now. There’s no way your time is up yet.”

Alice yawned against her will before continuing to speak. “Daniel, Daniel, Daniel… this is all wisdom I figured out just by living. You’ll figure it out too, don't you worry. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Dan held Alice’s hand. He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’ve um… I’ve got to get going. Makeup and wardrobe take awhile. The show is… it’s really quite the spectacle actually.”

He wanted to say 'I can’t wait for you to see it,' but he knew he was probably right. She never would. With a smile, she communicated as best she could that tonight, in her dreams, she’d imagine it. And it would probably pale in comparison to the real thing.

“I am so proud of the person you’ve become,” she said, her tired voice almost whispering. “I’m proud of your courage. I’m proud of your career. And I’m so glad you have friends who love you.”

“You’re doing it again, Nana. Talking like we’re never going to see each other again. What, do you think I won’t keep visiting you after this show is over?”

Alice gave a slight smile and seemed to try to shake her head. “Daniel, these are things you should have been told every day of your life. We all should say these things to each other all the time. Tell the people you’re proud of that you’re proud of them. Tell them you love them. Okay? Can you promise me that?”

“Of course,” Dan said with a bit of a shrug.

“Promise me, Daniel,” Alice insisted, her eyebrowse raised. “Promise me you’ll tell your mother and Phil and Chris and everyone else that you love them. And that you’ll love  _ yourself  _ too, that’s the most important thing. Oh, please, Daniel.  _ Please _ be proud of yourself and love yourself. That’s all I want.”

Dan squeezed Alice’s hand just a little bit harder. He sniffled and nodded. “I promise.”

Alice smiled gently. “Good.” Her hand relaxed in his and she pulled it away, patting the back of his hand twice before relaxing again. “Good gracious, I need a nap!” she said. “Too much emotion for one day, I think. And you need to get going.”

“I… I suppose, yeah,” Dan said, sniffling again and trying to clear the tears from his eyes as nonchalantly as possible.

“Go on, my little angel. Make those 5,000 people as proud of you as I am.”

Alice smiled at him, and, returning that smile, Dan waved farewell to his grandmother as he left. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too!”

 

***

 

There were definitely more than 5,000 people outside the venue already, and the show was hours off.

“The fuck…?” Dan mused, looking out the car window.

“How many fake tickets were sold for this show?” Hazel wondered aloud.

Phil’s head was in his hands. “I don’t know how we’re going to fix this,” he muttered.

“What’s the capacity of the venue before it’s a fire hazard?” Dan asked as they pulled into the back of the venue.

“Five thousand, two hundred thirty,” Phil responded as everyone exited the car. “Yeah, I thought of that too. There's no way we can pile everyone in.”

He and Hazel immediately approached the head of security at the venue asking if there was any way to deal with this.

“We’ll turn people away at the door if their bar code has been scanned already,” the venue security guard said.

“No!” Dan yelled. “It’s not their fault they got ripped off. Your venue should have been more careful about this!”

“If the ticket is a print-at-home PDF there’s nothing we can do aside from making sure the reseller is caught. ID checks can’t be implemented this late.”

“Even if they could, I’d still be unhappy with that. It doesn't matter to me _who_  these people paid; they still paid and they don't deserve to be turned away!”

Phil suddenly perked his head up. “Wait. Dan. We’re filming the show.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a cinema next door. Do you think we can live stream it to them?”

“I don't know," Dan said hesitantly. "We'd have to be insanely lucky.They'd have to have a spare screen that's not being used. And the people filming the show need to have internet connectivity. But even then, though, we don’t have anyone to direct the stream and switch cameras correctly or anything.”

“Maybe not,” Hazel said, “But I did my school’s live news feed. I was line director and everything! You know, camera one on Jimmy, go! Camera four on Samantha, go! All that.”

“High school doesn’t count,” Phil sighed, hopelessly.

“Maybe not for uber-professional work but I can handle myself on my toes and I know this concert like the back of my hand. That’s what you need right now!”

Dan and Phil looked at each other.

“Come on,” Hazel whined, bouncing on the balls of her feet impatiently. “High school experience has gotta be better than no experience.”

Phil sighed. “Good point,” he conceded. “Alright, I’m gonna make sure the cameras and soundboard have the right functionality to stream live in the first place. If they do, I’m gonna run to the shops and get bluetooth headsets for all of them. Hazel, you talk to the cinema manager next door and see if there’s a spare screen or two we can use. You’ll probably need to stand in the projection booth of one of them the whole time while you direct the cameras -- Oh, and don’t forget there’ll be a delay. Give your directions a few seconds early. I’ll lend you my laptop so you can facilitate the stream.”

“Yes sir!” Hazel said excitedly and rushed over to the cinema.

“Okay then," Dan said, "the PR problem. How do we get enough people to agree to go next door?”

“That’s a tough one,” Phil admitted. “I think you’ll need to tell them. It might work better if it's coming from you and not some faceless Lester Music employee.”

“What? Me? Personally?”

Phil laughed. “Well, kind of. Over the house mic. We’ll open the doors but before we let anyone in, we’ll have you come over the system and say we’re over capacity because some arseface sold fake tickets.”

“Ooh, great idea. I’ll even use the word arseface.”

“Shut up, arseface.”

Dan snickered.

“Anyway, just ask for volunteers to go to the cinema next door I guess. Your fanbase are generally very kind people, I’m sure some folks would be happy to.”

“Do you think they will?” Dan asked, genuinely concerned.

“I know they will.”

 

***

 

Luckily, there were two large IMAX screens available, as there weren’t currently any IMAX films to play. For a concert, however, the screens would be perfect. She phoned Phil immediately, and put in on speaker while the two of them worked out a small percentage of Dan’s ticket sales to give them as thanks for this favor.

Phil relayed it to Dan that the screens would be nice and big with excellent sound, which would make it a slightly easier sell when asking audience members to migrate next door.

In the end, it wasn’t hard to get fans to move at all. Plenty were willing to give up their spot for someone else - either because they’d seen Dan earlier on the tour, or because concerts kind of made them anxious and they preferred theater seats, or because they hadn’t paid all that much and they wanted to make sure someone who paid more got to see Dan in person.

 

***

 

Once the main show was complete, Dan marched out onto the stage where his piano was. The applause was deafening and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello everyone!” Dan called. “Left side, I see you!” he said, and waved. “Right side, I see you! Way in the back, hello, I see you! And hello to everyone down here in the middle and in the front, I see all your smiling faces!”

Suddenly, a large banner appeared across the middle of the floor, being held up by people about 3 rows back.

“What’s that?” he said and squinted. “‘Dan, we love listening to you sing, Would you like to hear us?’ Oh? Er, yes, please! Go ahead!”

It started as more of a murmur than anything else. But as more and more of the crowd joined in, words started to take form among the din of the audience’s mumbling.

 

_ “...why...like I am _

_...wonder why... feel lost and alone _

_ I wonder why I’m frozen where I am _

_ Can anyone explain?” _

 

And he realized what they were singing. It was “A Song for…”.

Not one of his big hits. Not a big chart success. Not even his first single. 

This song wasn’t a milestone or a moneymaker that had been shoved down listener’s throats. It was the most personal song he’d written up to this point. The most personal song he’d probably ever write. And  _ this, _ of all his songs, was what these fans all got together and chose to sing back to him. Like they knew it was important to him. Like it was important to them too.

Dan’s eyes filled with tears. He rushed over to the piano, sniffling and smiling, to play a tiny simple accompaniment for the audience as they sang.

 

_ “Wonder if I will ever be enough _

_ Wonder if I will ever be truly grown up _

_ I wonder what it is I’m running from _

_ And wonder what it is I’m rushing to?” _

 

The audience started to clap the rhythm of the song.

 

_ “I had nowhere I could belong _

_ Didn’t think I’d ever find one _

_ Didn’t know if there was a point _

_ To looking forward _

_ When hope wasn’t there.” _

 

He finished the piano there and buried his head in hands, trying not to ugly cry in front of 5,000 people plus hundreds more watching him on a couple of very large cinema screens. He sniffled and wiped his red eyes.

“Thank you,” he finally said, nearly bursting into tears.

The crowd applauded wildly, sending their encouragement to him the only way they could.

Hazel would tell Dan later that fans were singing together even in the cinema, where Dan couldn’t possibly hear it.

Dan finished the show with a renewed hope and energy, making eye contact with more members of the crowd than he had any previous night, believing in himself more than he ever had at any moment in his entire life.

He was so thankful that this was the show getting filmed for the blu-ray and DVD release of the tour, because  _ this _ version of the show was definitely the one he wanted immortalized.

 

***

 

Dan headed backstage to high-five his entire crew and change into his street clothes. Anthony gave him a quick congratulatory make-out; Chris gave him the biggest, tightest hug ever given; and Phil announced a get-together for the band and dancers and crew the next night at some other nice restaurant he and Martyn had discovered recently.

Everyone else had left aside from Anthony, Phil, and Chris when Dan was gathering his things to leave for the night.

His phone had 6 missed calls and 12 text messages. All from his mother.

His chest tightened, and he felt dizzy. This couldn't be real.

“Dan? You alright?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, um… Yeah. Fine.”

Dan quickly put his phone in his pocket. Phil walked closer to him.

“Dan,” he whispered. “You’re pale as a sheet. What’s wrong?”

Dan’s entire face tensed. He shook his head slightly, trying not to worry Chris or Anthony.

“Dan.”

He looked directly at Phil, and then back at Anthony and Chris.

“We’re here for you, mate,” Chris said. “Whatever it is.”

“Yeah, man, I mean… we’re the three guys who love you most in the whole world,” Anthony continued. “Whatever it is, like… you’ve got us.”

“He’s right, you know,” Phil said.

Dan nodded. He called his mother back, and held the phone up to his ear.

He knew what he was about to hear before Marina even said it.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***BONUS MATERIAL!***  
> If you need cheering up, [click here to watch the real-life moment](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/178234866540/read-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-chapter-20) that I based the audience singing on. :)
> 
> Chapter title is spanish for "Where does my wandering soul wish to go?" and is the official romanized title for the song "Saihate ga Mitai (I Want to See How It All Ends)", written by Sheena Ringo and originally recorded by Enka singer Sayuri Ishikawa. 
> 
> Ringo recorded two versions of it herself, a rock version in Japanese and a ballad version in English.
> 
> [Hear Ringo's rock version here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GrUU5Ginp3Q)  
> [Hear the ballad version here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqWShwQjjW8)
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr link](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/178190193928/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-2050)


	21. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan is still reeling from the loss of his grandmother, but Phil has some news he can't keep hidden for long... and Dan won't like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (tw this chapter: Occasional mentions of vomit -- nothing graphic, but still. Also drinking. Also I'm just gonna call out "cheating" as a possible trigger for this particular chapter. No spoilers on the specifics though.)
> 
> Whoo boy. Okay, so here's the thing.
> 
> I had to rework this chapter quite a bit. Something that WAS gonna happen just didn't feel right for this chapter, you know? Sooooo... I gotta mess with my outline a bit! This is gonna take some work. I wanna make sure everything I've foreshadowed still happens and obviously the interview sections, since they take place in the future, still need to be accurate. 
> 
> So the next update MAY take awhile. At least a full week, hopefully not much longer though. But [follow my tumblr!](http://americanphancakes.tumblr.com) I'll keep you guys updated on my progress and let you all know when you can expect the next chapter. <3
> 
> [Here's the tumblr link directly to the chapter post if you'd like to share or like. :D](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/178365064463/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-2150)

“Should we check on him?” Phil asked once the sounds of Dan vomiting seemed to have stopped.

Chris nodded. “Should be you.”

“Yeah, I know, but… I just feel really…” He glanced over at Anthony, then look back at Chris. “Can I talk to you alone for a second? No offense, Anthony, but this is… y’know.”

“Nah, man, it’s cool.” Anthony waved it off, legitimately understanding. He was the new guy. They all loved Dan, but he wasn’t quite one of “them” just yet, especially since Phil had stayed in London during the tour, and as a result Anthony hadn’t been around him much yet.

Phil walked with Chris to a corner of the room where he wouldn’t be heard.

“I feel really guilty, Chris. I just… I don’t know how to tell him. I can’t keep it from him, and of course I never  _ intended _ on keeping it from him, but I mean… I didn’t expect Alice to pass away  _ literally _ the day he got back, you know?”

“No, no, you’re not wrong. Usually I’d be calling you a right twat for hiding it, but nah. In this case I’m with you. But you have to tell him as soon as he’s okay. I mean the  _ moment _ you think he can handle hearing it, otherwise...”

“Yeah, I know. He’ll find out soon enough anyway, best I not wait.” Phil sighed and looked toward the bathroom door, which was slightly opened. “I just don’t know if I can face him right now. I don’t wanna be sitting in there, telling him he can confide in me while I’m hiding something this massive.”

“It’s not like you’ve done something illegal or nothing. It’s gonna hurt him, but it’s not some dirty little secret. It’s just a girlfriend.”

“Eh…” Phil said, tilting his head, making a nervous face.

“What?”

“I… may… have proposed last night.”

“You fucking what?!”

Phil nodded guiltily, some embarrassment clear in his body language “So yeah, uh. Fiancée. Not girlfriend.”

“You’re a right git. It’s been like three months!”

“I was drunk and lonely. I’m not proud of it. But she said yes, so I have to sleep in the bed I made, you know?” Phil sighed, trying to calm himself and forget how panicked he’d been that hung over morning when he realized what he’d done. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve only  _ known _ her for three months, I’ve known her off and on for years! She’s… y’know. She’s great.”

“I hate you. On Dan’s behalf, I hate you. A girlfriend, yeah, he could probably cope, but a fiancée?”

“I’m not gonna put my life on hold to avoid hurting his feelings, Chris. You know that’s not reasonable.”

“Because proposing to someone when drunk makes you just the  _ picture _ of reason!”

“Oh come on, he found someone, why shouldn’t I!?” Phil noticed his volume beginning to raise, and put it on pause. He closed his eyes and breathed a calming breath in, then out. “I need to be there for Dan right now. You’re right. I need to suck it up and be there for him.”

“Yes, you bloody well do. It’s the least you can fucking do under the circumstances, innit?”

Phil stubbornly nodded, inhaled, dusted himself off in a mostly symbolic gesture, and walked over to the bathroom door. He rapped on the door frame twice with his knuckle. “Dan?” he called gently.

“What?” Dan replied flatly, spitting excess bile into the toilet.

“Can I come in?”

“I guess.”

Phil stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Dan flushed so the acidic smell trapped in the room with them wouldn’t be enough to chase Phil away.

Phil sat on the floor across from Dan, and remembered when they were once in a similar position the previous year.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he said as playfully as he could, hoping Dan remembered. Sure enough, it got a smile out of Dan, however slight.

“I’m sorry,” Dan said. “Tonight was supposed to be a nice chill evening out with all of you guys, but…”

“What are you apologizing for, Dan? You just lost the most important person to you in the whole world. Don’t deprive yourself of the time to mourn. We don’t have to go anywhere tonight if you don’t feel up to it.”

Dan’s eyes filled with tears once again, perhaps the fifth or sixth time since calling his mother back.

“I’m f--”

“Don’t use the f-word, Dan. You’re not fine. There’s no reason to put up a front for us, we all know you’re hurting right now.”

“All?” Dan asked. “They’re still here?”

“They refused to leave until they knew you were going to be okay.”

Dan shook his head in grateful disbelief, sobbing. Phil scooted across the floor to him and hugged him, gently at first. When the sobs reached a peak, though, and Dan squeezed onto Phil for dear life, Phil squeezed back.

“Ssshh,” Phil whispered. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Why couldn’t I have been there?” Dan cried. “Why did I have my stupid show? It’s so stupid. I’m so fucking stupid…”

“No, Dan,” Phil insisted. “This was not a stupid show. You are not stupid for doing it. What you do, what you did today, means so much to people. You heard them singing back to you. That’s not just… tacky idol worship, Dan. Your songs  _ save _ people. Your songs help people get through the bullshit that goes on in their lives. You’re important.”

Dan started quietly chuckling through the tears. Phil pulled back from the hug.

“What?” he asked, looking at Dan’s tearful eyes and slight smile.

“You said a naughty word, Mr. Lester.”

Phil smiled. “Good, you were paying attention.” He pushed the hair off Dan’s forehead, then reached for the toilet roll on the counter and tore off a few pieces. He wiped a bit of vomit off Dan’s lower lip, then folded the paper in half and dabbed some of the tears off Dan’s cheeks.

“This is so embarrassing,” Dan said, shaking his head and looking away.

“Understandable,” Phil said, “but it’s just me. Please don’t be embarrassed.”

“But I’ll have to go out there,” Dan said. “Chris is no big deal but…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t want Anthony to see me like this.”

“Did… did you want me to tell him to go home?”

Dan looked towards the door briefly. He thought for a moment. He did sort of want Anthony to go away. He felt like Anthony probably did love him, but he didn’t want to learn that the love was conditional right after losing Nana. It wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. 

That said, how poor Anthony feel to be sent away? He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, he’d done all he could so far to win Dan’s confidence and affection, and Dan wanted to reward him for all that work. The habits he’d broken, the attitudes he’d changed, the assumptions he’d unlearned… Anthony wasn’t an entirely different person from last December or anything, but he was noticeably changed.

“No,” Dan finally said. “I’ll just… calm down, splash water on my face… whatever.”

“You’re sure?”

Dan nodded.

“Alright. Do you need anything? Like… do you need me to make a Boots run for you? Do you wanna go home? You don’t  _ have _ to come out with us. There’s still the party tomorrow.”

“No,” Dan said with increasing confidence and resolve. “I still wanna go hang out. Might help me get my mind of things.”

“Okay. Maybe not too much alcohol though, yeah?”

Dan smiled a tired smile, but looked a bit more determined to get through the night. Phil felt an odd, warm combination of proud and concerned, but he was optimistic that Dan would be okay. And he liked that he felt that way.

“Yeah,” Dan replied as Phil stood up to join Chris and Anthony.

 

***

 

Dan, Phil, Anthony, and Chris were laughing heartily at some joke Chris had just finished telling, but that Dan couldn’t recall when asked later. He’d told Phil and himself that he wouldn’t drink too much, but his stomach was holding out just fine and the dizzy dreamlike feeling of nothing mattering was too addictive to pass up.

“Oh my god, that reminds me,” Anthony said. “Dan. Dan. Oh my god, Dan. Remember that one time with the fish?”

“The what?” Dan said, his face scrunched up in confusion.

“The fish! You saw the fish and it was like aaaahh!”

“Oh you mean at the restaurant? The sushi place?”

“Yeah, the sushi fish!”

“Oh god, no, I don’t wanna think about the sushi fish,” Dan laughed.

Chris and Phil were just looking at each other in confusion.

“The what?” Phil asked with a baffled smile.

“Context, boys, context,” Chris said, patting Dan on the shoulder.

“Oh, we were just at this restaurant,” Dan explained, “and there were fish in the window that weren’t, like…”

“They were  _ gonna _ be food, but right then, they were just dead fish,” Anthony explained in a mumbly voice.

“The eyes. Oh my god  _ the eyes _ ,” Dan said, staring into the distance.

“And what’s amazing is that we’re in this restaurant with like… just… dead fish staring at us, right? And some guy  _ proposes to his girlfriend _ in the restaurant!”

“I was just like… how is  _ this _ a romantic atmosphere?!” Dan said enthusiastically, busting up laughing immediately afterward. Anthony joined in.

They were far too amused at their own bad date story to notice Phil tensing up at the word “propose,” but Chris noticed.

Anthony kept right on with the conversation. “Hmm… Where would you wanna be proposed to, Dan?”

“Who says I’d wanna be proposed  _ to _ ?” Dan replied. “Maybe I wanna be the one doing the proposing.”

“Oh yeah?” Anthony said with a smirk.

“Yeah. I mean… I wouldn’t  _ mind _ being proposed to, but… y’know. I wouldn’t rule out doing it myself.”

Then, Anthony whispered something in Dan’s ear, and Phil imagined all the sweet, terrible things it could be.

Maybe  _ “I know it’s not legal in the UK, but do you wanna go to New York with me someday and get married?” _

Or perhaps  _ “I’d wanna propose to you on a beach.” _

Or even  _ “If you proposed to me in a restaurant I’d totally say yes, even if it did have dead staring fish eyes everywhere.” _

After Phil imagined that one, Dan giggled at Anthony flirtatiously. Phil felt sick.

He had no right to feel sick. He had Amanda, after all.

Amanda had been one of his closest friends from nearly the first day of University. He liked her a lot, but he’d never had the courage or will power to ask her out on a proper date. They studied together, worked on projects together in the media and language arts classes they shared. But then, after they graduated, she’d stayed up north working at an advertising agency while he moved to London. Work brought her to the big city from time to time, and they always got together for coffee or lunch whenever she was in town. During Dan’s tour, she happened to find a job at a big, famous agency in London and moved to the area permanently, and Phil asked her out for a proper dinner date immediately.

They’d been seeing one another steadily over the past few months, and then last night, they’d gone out to a bar for cocktails.

 

***

 

_ “So where do you see yourself in five years?” Amanda asked him. _

_ “Rich and famous record producer,” Phil said with a smile. _

_ “You’re already a rich and famous record producer!” _

_ “Richer. And famouser.” _

_ Amanda laughed.  _

_ “What about you?” Phil asked. _

_ “Hm… I wanna win an award for one of my ads.” _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “Yeah. And I know I could do it, too. The company I work for now is like, super well known. Like, I’ve always wanted to work there. And they win awards all the time.” _

_ “I know you could do it. You’re gonna. You’re gonna win something.” _

_ “Yay!” Amanda singsonged happily. “I like how you make me believe in me.” _

_ “You should believe in you more. You’re so smart.” _

_ “Aw! Thank you.” _

_ “That’s why I love you, you know.” _

_ “You do?” Amanda said, her eyes dancing between his. _

_ “Yeah,” Phil said quietly. “‘Cause like, yeah, you’re pretty. You’re  _ really _ pretty. And so hot.” _

_ Amanda laughed, and Phil laughed too. They were so wasted it was ridiculous. _

_ “But you’re not just pretty. You’re also  _ so _ smart. And creative. And you, like… you know who you are. And I appreciate that. And plus you’re just really special to me. You know, you always made time to see me every single time you came to London and it made me feel like I was special to you too.” _

_ “You  _ are _ special to me!” _

_ Phil smiled. _

_ “You wanna know a secret?” Amanda said, lowering her voice. _

_ “What?” Phil answered obliviously. _

_ She leaned over to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been in love with you since uni.” _

_ “You what?” Phil stared at Amanda as she leaned back, his mouth agape, completely stunned by what he’d just heard. He knew he wasn’t entirely hopeless as far as romance was concerned; on some logical level, when his brother had told him he had a lot to offer the right person, he knew it was true. But his dating life had been a series of failures, and then when he met Dan he just gave up, figuring he’d found the one and he just needed to wait until the time was right. When Anthony came into the picture and then simply never went away, Phil had to do considerable work to not show how pained he was over it. He was sure he’d missed his chance with the only person who would ever truly love him back. _

_ But Amanda… was in love with him, and had been for years. _

_ “Yeah,” she confirms. “Oh god, so embarrassing. I don’t think i’d tell you if I weren’t drunk, honestly. And I’m glad you asked me to dinner when I moved down here. ‘Cause like, I don’t want you to think I’m only interested because you’re all successful now. You know? It’s not about like, money or fame or anything. It’s just… you. God, I just really really like you. You’re so imaginative and optimistic but you’re also a proper adult who takes care of things and you’re reliable and… ugh, you’re just so much  _ better _ than I am! I don’t know why you like me at all, I’m a flop compared to you!” Amanda kept her tone light and playful, dancing around the words like they were a cartoony obstacle course and not incredibly depressing assertions of her lack of self-efficacy (which Phil disagreed with outright). _

_ “I wanna get married,” Phil mumbled. _

_ “What?” _

_ Phil looked her in the eyes and said it again, more clearly. “Let’s get married.” _

_ “Are you serious?” _

_ “Deathly serious.” _

_ Amanda squinted her eyes slightly. “Are you gonna remember this in the morning?” _

_ Phil looked up, making a cute thinking face. “Umm… I think so.” _

_ Amanda smiled. “I’ll quiz you.” _

_ They woke up hung over the following morning after a very passionate night that certainly aided in dehydrating them. Amanda kissed Phil sweetly on the lips and smiled. _

_ “Do you remember what you said to me last night?” _

_ Phil squinted, genuinely working to remember. Once he did, he blushed. “I think… I think I said I wanted to marry you.” _

_ Amanda smiled. “You did.” _

_ “I don’t remember what your answer was.” _

_ “I didn’t answer. You were drunk.” _

_ “I’m not drunk now.” _

_ “And?” _

_ “Marry me?” _

_ Amanda chuckled. “Holy shit, you’re not kidding.” _

_ Phil raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to say yes or no. _

_ She smiled. “Okay!” _

_ They kissed once more, passionately, before finally getting out of bed and going about their lives. _

_ It was only after Amanda left his flat that Phil thought about Dan again. And he immediately rushed to the toilet to throw up. _

 

***

 

Phil felt a sudden rush of something like disappointment but more extreme. Or perhaps like mourning but  _ less _ extreme. The future he’d envisioned for himself, one in which he and Dan were somehow together, was now effectively turned to ash. It was a future he’d been grasping onto the idea of for nearly three years now, and all at once he realized it had disintegrated. It was pouring like liquid through the cracks between his fingers, and the tighter he held onto it, the more quickly it escaped his grasp.

He and Dan were never going to happen. They’d found other people. That was reality.

“Excuse me,” he said, and stood up.

“Phil?” Dan called out, concerned, as Phil rushed away in the general direction of the men’s toilets.

“He looked really pale,” Anthony muttered.

“Yeah,” Dan agreed.

“Let me text him,” Chris said. He pulled out his phone and sent Phil a quick message of “u ok m8”.

Phil didn’t respond right away. It was a few minutes later when he replied back with “I’m fine I’m just a complete piece of crap who fucking destroyed his own love life by being an indecisive twat one minute and an impulsive idiot the next.”

Chris wanted to chuckle at the message, which was absolutely true, but mostly he just felt sympathy. Or pity. He couldn’t tell which. Some sort of sadness, definitely.

“Is he ok?” Dan asked when he noticed Chris looking at his phone. Anthony was looking at Chris as well, worried and expectant.

“Uh… he’s not great, but he’ll live.”

“Is he gonna be back out to join us or is he gonna need to go?” Anthony asked.

“Let me go check on him,” Chris said.

“No,” Dan cut in. “He checked on me earlier, I feel the need to return the favor.”

“You got it,” Chris said.

“Entertain my boyfriend for me, but don’t entertain him  _ too _ much,” Dan winked.

“No promises!” Chris laughed.

Once Dan was gone, Anthony looked at Chris blankly. “What was he saying?”

“Nevermind,” Chris said, shaking his head.

Anthony blinked. “Oh! It was a sex joke. Got it. Sorry. Drunk. Slow.”

Chris laughed at him.  _ What an idiot, _ he thought.

Having gotten to know Anthony over the tour, it was easy to see why Dan was still with him. Anthony was smart enough to learn, but not smart enough to really have his own personality. He was a blank slate that Dan could more or less turn into anything he wanted. Critical thinking was beyond Anthony’s capacity, so Dan just needed to train him like a puppy. Chris was sure Dan was happy enough with this in the short term, but he also knew that not having anyone to wax philosophical with would get to Dan eventually.

He hoped beyond all hope that Phil and Amanda wouldn’t work out. He and Dan needed each other far too badly, whether they could see it right now or not.

 

***

 

Dan walked into the men’s toilet expecting to need to look for the obviously closed stall, planning to make a joke about the tables having turned, but instead Phil was leaning on his hands on the counter, staring at his reflection and frowning.

“Phil? You okay?”

Phil gasped slightly and blinked, then looked at Dan. “Oh. God, you startled me. I’m uh… I’m….”

Dan looked at Phil and waited for him to finish his thought.

Phil’s breathing accelerated as he staved off tears. “I’m getting married,” he whispered, his saddened eyes not leaving Dan’s.

Dan’s eyebrows went up slightly. “Oh.”

They stood in silence, gazing at one another lovingly and apologetically. Dan had questions. So many questions. But now wasn’t the time. He just gave a sad smile. He shook his head ever so subtly. Phil opened his mouth to speak, but only breathed. He raised his hands up just slightly, as though he were starting to shrug, but then let them drop again. Dan opened his mouth to speak as well, but closed it. Everything each of them did was like the beginning of a gesture that they didn’t follow through on.

“I’m sorry,” Phil finally said, his eyes reddening.

“For what?” Dan said with a half-hearted shrug and a breathy laugh. “Don’t apologize for finding happiness. The world could use more of it, and you deserve as much as you can find.”

A tear rolled down Phil’s cheek.

Dan walked up to Phil and put his hand on Phil’s cheek, wiping the tear away with his thumb. He looked at Phil’s reddened, tearful eyes for a moment, and then kissed Phil on the opposite cheek. He wrapped his arms around him, giving him the hug he needed -- one that said “I’m truly not angry.”

“How can you be okay with me right now?” Phil asked, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric of Dan’s top.

“What a ridiculous question,” Dan said, smiling. He pulled off the hug and looked Phil in the eye. When Phil averted his gaze, Dan pulled his chin up to force him to look at him. “You already know the answer. Am I upset? Yes. But I have no right to be, and I’ll get over it. But in the meantime, I will always want you to be happy first and foremost.” His voice quieted. “Even if it’s not with me.”

Phil planted a chaste kiss on Dan’s mouth, then rested his forehead on Dan’s. He sniffled. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do. Maybe… maybe we’re both just... finally acknowledging the reality of our situation.”

“I don’t think I like reality,” Phil chuckled.

“Me neither.”

They heard the sound of the toilet door opening and quickly separated as though pushed by some sort of electric current, just in case it was Anthony or Chris. Luckily, it was a stranger who proceeded to go about his business, barely noting Dan and Phil. The two of them silently agreed to head back out to the bar, lest one of the others come in and check on them for real. They rinsed off their faces, dried them off, and then left the men’s room.

 

***

 

Phil drove Dan home, Anthony not having paced himself enough to be a safe ride for anyone. 

He pulled up to Dan’s flat.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” Dan said, reaching for the door handle.

“Yeah. Oh, wait, before you go… I meant to ask, are you still going to the end-of-tour party?”

Dan nodded. “Yeah. I’d probably look so ungrateful if I skipped it.”

Phil shook his head. “No you wouldn’t. I could tell them about Alice, they’d all understand.”

“No, don’t do that. I don’t really want to tell everyone. It’s my family’s business, you know?” Dan sighed. “I kind of wish Anthony didn’t even know about it, to be honest.”

“Do you not trust him with that kind of thing?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s just…” Dan sighed. “Can you shut off the car? It’s distracting.” Phil did as he was asked, and Dan folded his arms, staring into the middle distance while he sorted through his thoughts aloud. “It’s really hard to explain. It’s like, he didn’t know her, so why would he care? I mean... I guess logically I know he’d care because he cares about  _ me, _ but…  _ does _ he care about me? Or does he care about the, like… character I play on stage and when I’m working? I don’t know. I guess I don’t feel like I can let him in that much just yet. Like if I talk to him about this it’ll… I dunno, burden him too much, and then he’ll just fuck off or something.” Dan gnawed nervously at the pad of his thumb.

Phil nodded, listening, but not completely understanding. It was like Dan wanted to keep his brand going even in a romantic relationship, which seemed odd to Phil and didn’t make much sense. But if that was what Dan wanted, then so be it.

“It’s like… he’s not  _ family _ enough,” Dan finished, and finally looked up at Phil.

Phil nodded. That, he understood.

“Yeah, I guess… I kind of still feel that way about Amanda.”

Dan’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Even having known her for years, even knowing she won’t judge me for things, I guess… the relationship hasn’t had a chance to deepen to that level.”

Thunder could be heard in the distance.

“From the sound of it, I should get inside,” Dan said. He smiled at Phil. “Walk me to my door like the proper gentleman you are?”

“You’re a gentleman too, you know.”

“Oh, sorry. Walk me to my door  _ please?” _ Dan smirked, and Phil chuckled.

“Fine,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

 

***

 

Dan motioned for to Phil step inside, but the latter didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” Dan asked.

“Are you sure I should be coming in?”

“I’m not letting you drive home in this,” Dan said frankly. “If you were completely sober, then it’d probably be fine, but we both know you’re not a good enough driver for night driving in this rain.”

The rain had begun to pick up, and by now enormous raindrops were hitting the glass of Dan’s windows hard.

“Oh… I suppose not.”

Phil stepped inside and they both removed their shoes.

The silence between them once Dan closed the door, punctuated by the sound of the storm outside, was the most awkward they’d ever experienced. It was the first time they’d been alone together without romantic or sexual affection being permitted. Dan realized then how much his relationship with Phil really had been romantic. He knew there were feelings of that nature, but hadn’t realized just how often their private interactions had been romantically charged.

They stood facing each other, making silent eye contact, communicating without words as they had earlier in the evening. They had so much they wanted to say to one another, but weren’t allowed to say any of it.

“I…” Dan started, but trailed off, and exhaled.

Phil nodded. “I know.”

“It’s funny…” Dan said. “Being out with all of you tonight, just… I could see exactly where each of you stood in my life. Chris is like my brother. Anthony is Dan Howell’s dancer boyfriend. And you...”

“Me?” Phil asked. Dan noticed they were closer together than they had been a few minutes ago. He wondered briefly when that had happened.

“You…well...”

“What am I to you, Dan?”

“I think… I think you’re the one that got away.” Dan smirked, at least with his mouth, but the sadness in his eyes was obvious.

Phil frowned and shook his head. “You’re the one who I let get away. Not the other way round.”

They were so close. It was taking everything Dan had not to lean in and kiss Phil. And Phil was thinking the same thing apparently, given the intent way he was staring at Dan’s lips. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

That word. That  _ fucking _ word.

The blue in Phil’s eyes sparkled as lightning flashed outside.

“I can’t marry her, can I?” he asked in something of a daze.

Dan shook his head. “And I can’t stay with Anthony, can I?”

Phil shook his head too.

Logic and reason were, at this point, drunk asleep. Phil threw caution to the wind, and suddenly pushed Dan against the wall next to his front door. The pornographic, heavy, breathless kiss that followed kept either of their brains distracted from reality. The feeling of Dan’s lips on his, something he’d missed and craved like a favorite childhood sweet, was giving Phil the  _ worst _ tunnel vision.

When lucid, Phil didn’t want to cheat on Amanda. He loved Amanda. But he didn’t want to be Amanda’s husband. At least not right then.

Right then, he wanted  _ Dan. _

Nobody existed but Dan.

As for Daniel James Howell,  _ he _ was single. The  _ artist _ \-- that is to say, the character -- known as “Dan Howell” might be dating a cute dancer, but Daniel James Howell had just lost someone dear to him and all he wanted was to feel something nice. Something fun and hypnotizing and pleasurable. Something besides the sorrow he’d felt when he called his mother after the show.

“I want to fuck you,” Dan whispered, turning them around so Phil was the one whose back was pushed to the wall. He loosened Phil’s tie and pulled it over his head, tossing it off to the side somewhere. He started working on the buttons of Phil’s shirt, dragging his mouth down Phil’s neck with clumsy, wet, half-bite-half-kiss motions.

“Aah…” Phil moaned. “Fuck, Dan…”

Dan finished with the buttons and backed up a step to watch as Phil’s shoulders moved, pushing the shirt sleeves down off his arms. He didn’t see the fabric hit the floor, too enthralled by the movement under Phil’s skin and the current shape of Phil’s chest and arms. He was leaner, his skin tighter. It wasn’t a massive transformation from before, but Phil had clearly been working out since last Christmas Eve. Dan couldn’t resist running his fingers up Phil’s chest, toward his neck, across his shoulders, and back down his chest again.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered.

Phil smiled, and pulled Dan’s shirt up over his head. He leaned his forehead against Dan’s, nuzzling him a little before exhaling “And you’re my beautiful angel,” and kissing him again.

Dan held Phil close to him, one hand behind his neck and the other around his waist. He loved this feeling of being in control. Anthony always made him feel like a rag doll, but here, now, Dan was in charge.

Whatever happened now… was up to Dan.

If he cheated on Anthony, it would be his own fault. If Phil cheated on his fiancée with him, it would at least in part be his fault.

In this moment of sober lucidity, Dan winced.

And he paused.

He let the kiss end, and slowly moved back.

“Dan?” Phil said, frowning.

Dan shook his head, his eyes averted. “We can’t.”

Phil stood there, staring at Dan. He was smart enough to know there was no reason to ask why, or what was wrong. He looked down at the floor. He nodded.

“Yeah… I should go.”

Dan stayed silent, despite wanting to scream. The white noise of the blood rushing through his body was terrifying.

“I love you,” Phil eventually said, his tone more desperate and sad than anything Dan had ever heard.

And Dan absolutely broke.

He started sobbing, the gravity of the entire night suddenly hitting him all at once. “I love you too,” he cried. He suddenly shook his head, panicked. “Please don’t leave. I don’t want you to leave me too. I can’t have anyone else leave me. Please. Please, just stay tonight, please…”

Phil stepped up to Dan with urgency and purpose and wrapped his arms around him. Dan clung to Phil desperately, sobbing into his shoulder.

They lay together in the same bed that night, keeping each other safe and warm, sheltering each other from the storm around them. They didn’t need to make love. They didn’t even need to kiss. They just needed to be there, together.

Over the course of the night, Dan would occasionally wake up, sobbing again. The tremors created by Dan’s shaking body would wake Phil up immediately.

“Hey,” Phil would whisper. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Then, he would hold Dan until he calmed down and fell back asleep. Then, he’d kiss Dan’s forehead and fall back asleep himself until it happened again.

_ Fuck Anthony for not being here,  _ Phil would think every single time.

_ Dan, my angel. My love. You deserve so much better. _

_ You deserve better than him. _

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Breakdown" by Ayumi Hamasaki.
> 
> Comments make Zero a happy writer! I love every comment you guys leave, even the short ones. They mean so much to me. But all of you guys are the best readers ever, even the silent ones, just for giving this story time out of your day. :D
> 
> [Tumblr link for reblogging! :D](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/178365064463/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-2150)


	22. Ever Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A morning, a party, a funeral, and mourning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM BACK! And this chapter is nice and long (okay only SLIGHTLY longer than my usual chapters tbh).
> 
> tw: non-suicidal depression (the scene immediately after Dan leaves the party, so you can easily skip it if the specifics about feeling depressed bother you).
> 
> I'm not gonna lie, this chapter is quite the rollercoaster. It starts off kind of nice and then.... whoooo boy. Just... maybe save this chapter for later if you're having a rough day?
> 
> Next chapter, we're back to the present-day/interview again for three chapters in a row so enjoy this little "cliffhanger" of sorts. :)

“I’m going to break up with Amanda tonight,” Phil said as soon as he saw Dan’s eyes flutter open.

Dan felt warm. It wasn’t just the sunlight or the feeling of Phil’s arm around his torso. His heart felt like it was snuggling up in a blanket.

“Really?” he said, unsure this wasn’t a very vivid dream.

“Yeah,” Phil whispered. “I can’t marry her. It feels dishonest. I don’t love her like… like I should.”

Dan smiled warmly. “Then… I’m going to break up with Anthony.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s true, what we said last night. You can’t be with her, and I can’t be with him. I mean... I’m not  _ happy _ with him. I should have broken up with him already, I’m probably leading him on, I know...” Dan sighed. “He’s worked so hard to… change who he is. And I don’t want that work to have been for nothing, I guess, but he shouldn’t have to do that. Not for me, not for anyone. He deserves someone who loves him as he is. Flaws included.” Dan shrugged. “Not that there weren’t plenty of flaws…”

“And… you love me as I am, yeah?”

Dan nodded. “I love you. Just… you. Even when you piss me off, I still love you,” he giggled. “I figure it’s gotta be real then.”

“You know I love you just as you are, too. Right?”

Dan thought for a moment. He thought back to when the Lester Music office was tucked away at the back of a music store. They went out for coffee, and Dan pushed the two of them through that crowd of people outside. He thought of how much he never wanted to let Phil down. How he always wanted to be a better version of himself. Was he really that much different from Anthony, constantly changing himself so he might one day be worthy?

He couldn’t imagine telling Anthony that he loved him just as he was, though. 

“Phil…” Dan said instead of answering Phil’s question directly. “Would you love me if I changed for the worse?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like if my career fell apart, or if I got really fat, or if I developed a skin condition, or if I got really mean to you all of a sudden…”

“Yes.”

“What?” Dan actually laughed. He couldn’t believe anyone would say yes to any of that.

“Yes, I’d still love you. If your career fell apart, I’d do my best to take care of you until you found something else that fulfilled you. If you got really fat you’d still be beautiful. Same if you got any sort of skin condition. And if you got really mean I’d encourage you to see a doctor because I’d know that can’t be you. Either stress has got to you or you’ve got some sort of growth in your head that’s making you act that way.”

“And you wouldn’t hate me?”

Phil smiled. “Well, I might be frustrated or angry if you were really cruel to me, but… no, I’d still love you. And I’d do anything I could to make you feel yourself again.” Phil squeezed Dan like he would a favorite teddy bear, nuzzling into his shoulder. “You’re my everything, Dan.”

Dan laughed. “God, that’s cheesy.”

“It’s supposed to be cheesy!”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. Phil pushed the hair out of Dan’s face.

“It’s probably really late already,” Phil said.

“I don’t care,” Dan whispered. “Stay with me a little longer?”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to.”

“Thank you. And thank you for staying with me last night. There were a hundred reasons why you didn’t have to do that.”

“And there was one reason why I did have to. And that one reason was far more important than any of the others.”

Dan shook his head. “You really didn’t have to--”

“The man I love most in the whole world was lonely and sad and needed me. That’s enough. That one thing was enough. I couldn’t abandon you.”

Dan bit the inside of his cheek. There was a voice in his mind saying that, actually, Phil kept abandoning him all the time - otherwise, he wouldn’t be the head of a record label who was engaged to someone else. He’d be a record store owner who was engaged to Dan. On some level, Dan had to admit, that voice in his mind wasn’t wrong.

But for the first time in ages, he had some hope that Phil was going to follow through on his promise and that finally, after tonight, they were going to be together. For real. Not just for a night of sex or hanging out or games or songwriting, but… For a life. A life together as Daniel Howell and Philip Lester.

Finally, Dan let himself smile. He needed to learn to be more optimistic. He needed to learn to let himself look forward to things. Finally, for once, he was allowing himself to be excited.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked, having observed a series of confusing facial expressions.

“I am so in love with you,” Dan said.

Phil smiled. “I love you, too.”

Technically they were still taken by other people, but the plans were in place for that to end, so they scooted closer together. Dan smiled delicately when their noses were brushing against each other. When Phil pushed forward to kiss him, he didn’t back away. He closed his eyes and relaxed into it.

Phil was a much better kisser than Anthony, anyway. He’d forgotten. The reminder was nice.

 

***

 

The party venue was a restaurant so fancy that Dan had never heard of it, and Lester Music had rented out the entire place for the night. The company was doing extraordinarily well these days (thanks mostly to Dan Howell), that much was clear to all in attendance.

Dan wasn’t exactly ecstatic to be hearing his own music playing over the restaurant’s modest sound system. On top of it, the volume was turned up just a bit too high, which distorted the high and low bands just enough to make it grating. Dan ordered a Dark & Stormy to help him relax and ignore it while he waited for Anthony to arrive.

Meanwhile, Phil was near the front door waiting for Amanda, checking his watch obsessively. He tapped his foot nervously, peeking out over people’s heads as they entered. Nearly everyone said hello to him on their way in, and he gave them all polite smiles. From time to time he’d look back in at the party, wondering if he’d somehow missed her.

Soon enough, Phil’s soon-to-be-ex-fiancee entered, looking stunning. 

“Good evening, Amanda!” he greeted her, extending his elbow so she could loop her hand through it. She smiled sweetly. He almost felt hesitant about breaking up with her, but a quick glance at Dan on the other side of the room -- looking incredible in a button-up shirt that wrapped around him like a dance partner and makeup that accentuated his plush lips and bright eyes -- reminded him where his affections truly landed.

“Hello, my darling!” Amanda replied happily. She looked around. “This is quite the classy do, isn’t it!”

“Sarah and Martyn did the bulk of the planning for it,” Phil said. “I just helped pick the restaurant.”

“It’s quite something. Everyone looks so good, I feel underdressed!”

“Not at all, you look wonderful.”

They got a couple of drinks -- a cocktail for him, champagne for her -- and tucked themselves into a corner and talked the exact same way they often did during their coffee or lunch get-togethers. Phil was half-distracted the entire time, though, waiting for the right moment to talk about how things were going too fast for him or some other such excuse. Amanda was energized and distracted by her own excitement, however, and didn’t notice the stiffness with which Phil held himself.

“Oh, look what my mum sent me!” Amanda suddenly said, grabbing her phone out of her clutch. She held the screen up so Phil could see it - a photo of Amanda’s smiling mother with a clip art party hat on her head and pink cartoon hearts copy-pasted onto her eyes. The word “congrats!” was hand-written very messily at the bottom of the photo. “She’s asking about the date already. Oh my god, Phil, she’s so excited! And she wants a photo of the ring as soon as I have one.” Amanda looked at the photo of her mother and smiled. “You know, I think part of her thought I was gonna be a career girl exclusively forever and never start a family, the poor dear. I’m as excited for her sake as I am for my own, if I’m honest!”

_ Oh fuck. _

Normally, Phil may not have been one for swearing even inside his own head, but sometimes there was just no polite word that could cover it.

Phil tried to hide his sudden anxiety behind a giggle. “That is adorable,” he said.

Amanda picked up on the lack of sparkle in his eyes. “You okay?” she asked. “I’m sorry, oh, god, now you probably feel all this pressure to get a ring and start planning things. I did not mean to do that, I swear.”

Phil inhaled, trying to calm himself. “Yeah, the party, just… overwhelmed, I guess.”

“We can get out of here, if you like?” Amanda suggested with a flirtatious grin. “Go somewhere a little more private.”

“No, that’s not necessar-- I mean, I’d love to, obviously! But yeah I need to do some more, y’know… uncomfortable socialization before I abandon my post.” Phil smiled politely and took another much-needed sip of his drink. “Wish me luck!”

Amanda smirked while Phil began to turn towards the rest of the party guests. “Don’t be too long, I want to have wild insane sex with my fiance tonight!” She gave a genuine laugh. “God, I love the sound of that.”

Phil laughed and waved casually as he headed out into the jungle of party guests. As soon as his face was hidden to Amanda, it relaxed into the panicked frown that reflected his actual mindset. His eyes scanned the crowd frantically as he pushed through, saying his perfunctory “excuse me”s and “pardon”s, barely even noting who he was running into. He finally saw Dan and sped up his stride, hoping he’d caught him before he did anything stupid.

If the angry look on Anthony’s face was any indication, though, Phil was too late.

He shut his eyes and exhaled.

“You know what?” Anthony was saying. “Fuck you. You think just because you’re all famous now you can mess with people? I  _ loved _ you, Dan. Do you even know what that word means?”

“Anthony, I promise, I really di--”

Something cut off whatever Dan was about to say. When Phil opened his eyes again, Dan’s face was soaking wet, but his face was neutral, and Anthony was shoving through the guests on his way to the exit. Dan and Phil both watched as he stormed out. Dan wiped his face and the top of his shirt off with a cloth napkin and stepped up to Phil.

“Well, good news and bad news. The bad news is, we’re probably going to have to hold more dancer auditions for the next tour. The good news is…”

Dan started to wrap his arms around Phil’s shoulders. But Phil pushed them away.

“Dan, stop.”

Dan froze. His stomach was immediately tying itself in knots. Phil didn’t even need to say anything for Dan to know what happened.

“You… you didn’t…”

“She told her mum already. And… her mum was sending cute congratulations messages and asking when she’d see a ring, apparently, and…”

Dan felt tears sting his eyes.

“Oh,” he stammered. “Well, I mean… okay. No big deal.” Dan gave a fake laugh.

“Dan, I am… god, I’m so sorry.”

“Are you?” Dan said. He laughed again, this time deliriously. “ _ Are _ you sorry? Sometimes I wonder why I want you at all. How can I be so in love with someone so cowardly?” 

“She told her mum! It’s not  _ brave _ to break off an engagement with someone whose mother is that proud and excited. It’s just heartless.”

“And breaking your promise to me isn’t?”

“Technically I didn’t  _ promise _ to break up with her for you, Dan.” Phil felt the pangs of regret about saying that before his mouth had even closed.

“You are so spineless I’m amazed you can stand up.”

“And you’re just another selfish rock star who thinks he can have whatever he wants.”

Dan pushed Phil hard at the shoulders, causing Phil to lose his balance slightly. “I’m so fucking stupid for giving a shit about you,” Dan muttered angrily, shaking his head. He stomped away to some secluded corner of the restaurant, as far away from Phil as he could get, so he could breathe.

The party continued around and between them. No one had really noticed anything.

 

***

 

Dan worked hard all night to keep up the pretense that gratitude for everyone’s hard work was his predominant emotion. He envied the more extroverted types for whom parties were a relaxing, fun affair; even when he wasn’t trying to hide a broken heart, these sorts of things were incredibly taxing for him. Tonight it was so much worse due to the considerable effort involved in calming himself whenever anyone asked where Phil was or mentioned how smart Phil was to sign him.

He went to the bar and got a margarita so he could maybe,  _ finally, _ relax at his own fucking party.

He stood in the corner as he sipped his drink, faced away from everyone, looking out the window at the darkened city. All the people behind him, dancing and drinking and chatting, were there in honor of  _ his _ tour, so he felt guilty. But he couldn’t imagine anything more hellish than continuing to face that crowd, putting on a practiced, phony smile as he shook their hands and thanked them for their hard work and support. Normally he thought of them all as real, actual individuals - labelmates, bandmates, dancers, creatives, friends. But right now it was just a cloudy, foggy mass of “people” in the generic sense.

He just didn’t have the energy to do it anymore.

So he finished his drink as fast as he could, and left.

 

***

 

Dan stepped through his front door, utterly numb. He was angry, but lacked the energy or passion to be angry properly. He was sleepy, but lacked the energy or drive to walk the whole way to his bedroom. He was hungry, but lacked the energy or interest to make himself anything. He was lonely, but lacked the energy or comfort with doing so to text an apology to Phil.

Nor to text anyone else, for that matter.

He fell onto the sofa and mindlessly reached for his television remote. He flipped through channels briefly, going too fast to even see what programmes he passed by, nevermind letting any of them capture his interest. Even reruns of shows he knew he liked just passed by in a blur. After three full loops around every channel available, he turned off the television, resigned, and let his arm dangle off the sofa. It was uncomfortable, but he fell asleep eventually, so he didn’t notice the discomfort for long.

 

***

 

Dan woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He hadn’t remembered to charge it last night, so it was down to 15% battery. It was his mother calling -- no way his phone battery would survive that. He let it ring, knowing that Marina would leave a voicemail or text him if she needed an answer to a question or anything.

He stared into the middle distance until the ringtone stopped playing and his text tone played instead.

“Are you going to bring Phil along to your Nana’s funeral?” her message read.

“i dunno let me call him and see” Dan replied.

Calling Phil was going to take Dan some time to do. He reluctantly sat up and stretched. He rested his arms on the sofa at his sides and sat lethargically for about five minutes, which felt to Dan like about 30 seconds. He slowly stood, and shambled over to the bedroom where his charging cable was.

He frowned.

He plugged his phone in and let the phone fall to the floor while it charged. He headed to the toilet and washed the previous night’s makeup off his face.

Feeling a bit more like himself, he sat on the bed and tapped Phil’s name in his contacts.

Realizing that he and Amanda might be together, however, he hung up after the first ring.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. He breathed deeply in an attempt to relieve the tension squeezing around his entire body, but to no avail.

And then, Phil called back.

Dan answered. “Hello?”

“Is everything okay?”

Dan smirked bitterly and shook his head. “That’s always your question when I call you.”

“You don’t typically call, is all.”

“Who is that?” Dan heard a woman’s voice say. Phil made a shush sound in response. 

Dan briefly squeezed his mouth and eyes shut. “That Amanda?” he finally asked.

“Um… yeah…” Phil said. Dan could hear some rustling and the closing of a door. “I can talk though. What’s going on?”

“My uh… my Nana’s funeral. It’s… y’know. Tomorrow.”

“Oh. Are um… are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not like… I mean it’s sad, yeah. But um, actually, my mum wanted to know if you, y’know. If you were gonna be coming with me.”

“Oh. Yeah, I mean, I’d like to. Of course. Can… can I bring  _ her _ along?”

“No,” Dan answered in a hurry. “No, just… She’s not family, and I don’t wanna… like… impose or anything…”

“Yeah, yeah, no of course. I’m sorry, that… stupid question.”

“It’ll be at one,” Dan said, in a hurry to return the conversation to strictly business. “I’ll text you the address.”

Phil tensed at the realization that they’d be going separately, but didn’t say anything since it was unreasonable to expect otherwise. “Okay. I’ll see you there.”

“Cool.”

“Dan? Um. Thank you. For asking me to be there.”

Dan scrunched up his face. Phil’s tone was so warm it actually hurt. He seemed so grateful that Dan was asking him at all. Truth was, he probably wouldn’t have asked him if Marina hadn’t wondered.

“‘Course. But, um... I gotta go, I need to let my mum know.”

“Okay,” Phil whispered. “See you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah,” Dan said. He hung up without a proper “bye,” wanting the tension to just end already.

He texted his mother back immediately, just to get it over with.

“yeah he’ll be there”

“Good. Mum would be glad to know he came. :)”

_ Of course he’d come, _ Dan thought.  _ He’s family, isn’t he? _

And that thought was enough for all his tears to finally come rushing out. He sobbed until his tears had to take a break, seemingly to replenish themselves, and then he sobbed again. He wondered why he kept doing this to himself - holding all the tears in until the dam broke and the sadness exploded out of him like this.

It should have been him waking up next to Phil this morning, not Amanda.

Phil was family. Phil was  _ his _ family, and it was like Amanda was stealing him away.

Dan found himself angry that Phil would even consider marrying anyone but him. He wondered who asked. It must have been her, he thought. There’s no way Phil would propose to her. And of course he would have felt bad to refuse, so he agreed. Yeah. That’s all. He just felt pressured.

Dan wished he could call his Nana. She’d be able to talk him through this. She’d be able to help him cope. She’d give him the best advice and make him feel so loved. He’d promised her in the hospital that he would love himself and be proud of himself, but he’d never learned how to do that on his own. He still needed someone else, whose judgment he trusted more than he trusted his own, to tell him he was loved and valuable. And Phil, through his actions, had told Dan the complete opposite.

Alice had given Dan his journal, so in a way it was rather like having her to talk to, even if he got no answers. But between the dreams and the lyrics, it was nearly full. He opened it up to one of the last three blank pages and started writing. What else was there to do?

 

***

 

The service was lovely. Dan wished he could think of any other adjectives for it, but most funerals were pretty much the same. The only difference was whose presence had been lost. Aside from that, people always told stories, they always cried, they always wore nice modest clothing (usually black), they always hugged each other.

Alice’s funeral attracted a good number of people and Dan felt claustrophobic and unnoticed. He nervously approached her open casket, expecting to be weirded out or terrified. Instead, he found himself appreciating the person whose job it was to do makeup on the dead. She looked lovely. Calm. Like she was asleep and having a pleasant dream. She looked like herself.

Dan put a small white flower down onto the pillow next to her face.

“I’m trying,” he whispered. “It’s hard, but I’m trying.” He sniffled. “I may be a letdown right now but someday I won’t be. I promised you I’d try to be proud of myself and love myself. I’m not there yet, but… I’m trying.”

He knew right now he was supposed to say some sort of “goodbye,” but he couldn’t bring himself to. If he said that, then she’d be in the past. Officially. Forever. That didn’t feel right to him - he’d made her that promise just the other day. The reality that Nana was gone forever still hadn’t sunk in properly yet, and he didn’t want to help it along.

He turned around to let the next person pay their respects.

His eyes were downcast as he walked, and he noticed only people’s feet, the same black shoes on every last one of them. But this pair of shoes was pointed at him. Facing him. He lifted his eyes.

“Phil,” Dan said in greeting, nodding slightly.

Phil wrapped his arms around Dan, saying nothing. Dan cried properly for the first time all day. Despite his anger, despite Phil’s betrayal, something about being with Phil made him feel like crying was okay.

_ Even when you piss me off, I still love you, _ Phil remembered Dan saying.

He kissed the top of Dan’s head, wishing he could make the pain go away.

 

***

 

“My journal is almost full.”

“The one she gave you?”

“Yeah. Just one page left. And it kills me because, like… After I moved out, since I got it from her, it always sort of felt like I was telling her about my problems and feelings when I wrote in it. Like I still had her around, sort of. But now I need that more than ever, and… and it’s all used up.”

“Do you need a new one?”

“I ordered a new one. Amazon Prime, yay. Should have it tomorrow. Won’t be the same, though.”

“Yeah.”

They stood in silence on the wooden bridge, overlooking the man-made pond adjacent to the funeral home. It was easy to see why they’d decorated this way. It was so calming. The sound of the water moving, the bright colors and sweet scent of the flowers, the deliberate arrangement of stones. Everyone was inside eating Nana’s favorite cakes and snacks, consoling each other. But Dan and Phil were out here, breathing, because out here was where they could.

“I’m sorry,” Phil said, eventually breaking the calm silence.

“Why does everyone always say that? Her death wasn’t your fault.” Dan sighed. “Fucking lung cancer. Never smoked a day in her life. Just a quirk of genetics. Fucking hell.”

“Actually, I um… I meant to say, I’m sorry I didn’t break up with Amanda.”

Dan shrugged and said nothing. Phil’s heart broke for him when he realized that, to Dan, he was just the next in a long line of betrayals.

“Did you get her a ring yet?” Dan asked. “You really should if she and her mum are expecting it.”

Phil was uncomfortable with answering that question, but Dan did ask, so he went with it. “Yeah.” His face dropped into a tragic frown. “I felt kind of bad the whole time though. Kept seeing rings I knew  _ you’d _ like.”

Dan looked at him. “Why would you tell me that, Phil?” he whispered.

“I… I don’t know, honestly, I… I guess… I didn’t want you thinking that I don’t have regrets.”

Dan laughed mirthlessly. “I fucking hate you sometimes,” he said, shaking his head.

“Only sometimes?”

Dan ignored that comment. “What sort of rings did you think I’d like?”

“Well, there was this silver one, I guess it was white gold? With an onyx inlay… And also this like, black titanium one with a sort of celtic looking pattern on it.”

Dan nodded. “Yeah, you woulda been right. Those do sound very me, don’t they?”

Phil was about to say something about showing him the rings at some point, but thought better of it.

“Dan, I…”

“Hm?”

“I think you should apologize to Anthony.”

Something about Phil saying that felt like a kick to the stomach. The ring didn’t finalize his engagement to Amanda in quite the same way this did.

Dan shook his head.

Phil could see that Dan had gone pale.

“Not… you know. Not if you were really unhappy with him, obviously. Not if he was really awful to you.”

“He wasn’t.”

“I’m just saying… He was willing to do a lot to make you happy. And… I think you need someone like that right now.”

“No,” Dan said quietly, shaking his head.

“You can’t be alone right now, Dan.”

“I know, but… but…”

“Dan, please. Please. Try to make it work with him.”

Breathing was suddenly so difficult. The sadness he felt boiled inside him and turned into anger that Phil was giving up. He was giving in to his cowardice and turning Dan away.

“No.” Dan said resolutely. “I don’t want him. I never did. I wanted you. I still want you. Phil, I  _ need _ you!”

“You need something I can’t give you anymore, Dan!”

“Yes you can! Yes you  _ fucking _ can! You always could! There’s just always an excuse! There’s always a reason. ‘I can’t step down as the head of my tiny stupid company! Oh, now I  _ definitely _ can’t step down because my brother has more nerve than I do! And now I can’t go without seeing you for a couple of months without someone swooping in and snatching me up! And now I’m too scared to break up with her because her  _ dear sweet mummy _ is so fucking excited!’ But you know what? If it weren’t that, it would be something else. You’d be moving to Brighton or Manchester or somewhere and wouldn’t want long distance. Or you’d just not feel ready to settle down yet because you’re too young and you want to fuck around for awhile first. Or maybe you’d be nervous about coming out publicly. I don’t know! Take your fucking pick! It’s like you were put on this earth just to make me believe you loved me only to turn around and tell me to fuck off.”

Phil froze, gulping as he looked down at the pond. He felt like he was drowning.

“I’m not wrong, am I?” Dan asked.

Phil shook his head. Mostly because everything Dan was saying was completely true.

“I would give up all of this for you,” Dan said quietly. “You know that, right? I’d stop making music if it meant I could have you. The only reason I don’t is because I bring in half the money your fucking company makes and I know that. Without Dan Howell, Lester Music dies. And I don’t want that. Because I love you.”

“Does it… does it not make you happy? Your job?”

“Of course it makes me happy. I would have quit after HKL if it didn’t. I can’t imagine a job more fulfilling than the one I get to do. But as much as this job means to me, as happy as it makes me…”

Dan just looked in Phil’s eyes and shook his head.

_ You mean more to me, _ his eyes said.  _ You could make me happier. _

“I  _ like _ my job,” Dan finished. “But I  _ love _ you.”

Phil wanted so badly to kiss Dan right then. He had to remind himself that he shouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Dan’s eyes narrowed.

“And one of these days,” Dan continued, his voice taking a dark tone, “the fact that I feel that way about you will finally sink into your bones and swim in your blood and the pain of it will finally hurt you as much as you’ve hurt me.”

Dan took a step back away from Phil.

“You don’t have to stay, Mr. Lester,” he said at a normal, conversational volume. He turned around, walking back to rejoin the mourners inside the funeral home. He hoped Phil was crying, but he didn’t turn to look and find out. He needed some fucking cake or biscuits or something right then and hoped there were still some left. Champagne, too. Alcohol would be amazing right now.

But mostly he really wished he could talk to his Nana.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "ever free" by Ayumi Hamasaki.


	23. Interview/Break: A Life Supreme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane ends day 1 of the interview. Dan and Phil have a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Ugh sorry this took so long, it ended up taking all week and I didn't even warn you this time! I'm so sorry. This was a pretty hard chapter though. I hope you guys like it - it should make a bunch of you very happy, haha :)
> 
> [Here's this chapter's tumblr link for liking & reblogging purposes!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/178843721138/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-2350)

Dan sat, facing in Shane’s direction, but with his eyes staring through Shane’s chest, past the stage behind him, focusing somewhere in outer space on the other side of the world. He blinked, straightened his posture, and glanced at Phil. He decided to ignore the look on Phil’s face.

“I felt…” he started, his voice weak, then cleared his throat. “My grandma and Phil were the only people I felt I really had, and I lost even them. So I felt like I had nobody. I just… I couldn’t… I couldn’t see reason. In my mind… I was worthless, and I was destined to be left. By everyone I loved. Had I been more lucid I would have realized I could call Louise. She absolutely would have listened to me cry and vent and rattle off all the reasons why my life sucked just then. But I liked her and respected her I felt like I would have been a bother. And even Chris, like... he was away on holiday after the tour, but he was only in Germany, he wasn’t in the arctic or anything. I could have talked to him too, I’m sure. And some selfish part of me was just angry at him for ‘abandoning me’ or some other such bullshit. His holiday plans had been made ages before, and logically I knew that, but... when you’re depressed, logic is  _ not _ a thing. Your brain is just not capable of it. As far as I was concerned, everything was all my fault, everyone was out to get me, everyone hated me. Anyone who liked me or was kind to me? Biding their time, waiting for the right moment to pull the rug out from under me. There was no point attempting to reach out to anyone. So… I did what I always did when I was depressed.”

“You hid,” Shane said.

Dan nodded. “I did. I shut myself away again.”

Shane looked to be on the verge of tears himself listening to this. “This whole era of your life and career… I think this is the part I find especially interesting, and I was most looking forward to this part of your story, because… you never really talked about it in interviews.”

Dan shook his head. “No.”

“The album you released after this time,  _ Nihilism _ , ended up being a monstrous success. Your tour afterward was massive. Defranco Media bought Lester Music as a result of it--”

“Indirectly,” Dan clarified.

“However indirectly, it did, like, trigger the label success that resulted in the buyout.”

“Yes.”

“And yet, you did very few media appearances promoting it. You made the music videos, which were incredible, by the way…”

“Thank you. PJ did a very good job.”

“...And a few websites covered the album’s release, but you did no  _ real _ interviews - the magazine articles and write-ups were just, like… From you guys.”

“Purely rehashes of the press releases Martyn and I wrote, yeah.”

“So… why? What exactly happened then?”

“Put simply, uh… During the making of the album I was blackout drunk more often than I wasn’t. I honestly don’t remember writing a majority of those songs, that’s how bad it was.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. After the album was done, I eased up a bit, but I was still worried about, like… freaking out before a particularly major interview & not being able to resist having a few shots beforehand. I didn’t want to go on television and be this… drunken asshole. I’m sorry, I keep swearing, and--”

“You know what, don’t even worry about it, we’ve both been swearing, I think at this point I’m just gonna put a warning on the screen!” Shane laughed.

“Thank you,” Dan chuckled before continuing. “Anyway, I really didn’t want to, erm… proliferate that myth of the drunken artist, you know? That’s not the kind of thing I wanted to be promoting to my audience as, like…  _ okay. _ And to be fair to myself, I was  _ mostly _ sober for editing the lyrics and the actual recording, but… even then only mostly. It amazes me that people talk about how poetic the lyrics are on  _ Nihilism, _ honestly, the original pages are just… the nonsensical ramblings of a very, very sad person.”

Shane exhaled, in utter disbelief. “That is really, just… I mean, having now heard what was going on in your life, the loss you must have been feeling, it’s not a surprise. But the extent of it? That’s just… you really don’t remember writing that stuff?”

“No. Not the initial drafts anyway, and a lot of the melody lines and chord progressions, I know I must have been figuring them out on my tiny cheap keyboard at home, but...” Dan shook his head. “Don’t remember a thing. And like I said, I eased up a bit on the drinking after, but I certainly didn’t stop. I was still drinking too much all the way through the tour. I used a good show as an excuse to drink all night. I used the travel as an excuse to try different kinds of drinks everywhere I went.”

“Wow. That’s intense.” Shane had his fingers delicately resting on his mouth in thought. “Anyway,” he said, taking a breath and closing his notebook, “I  _ definitely _ want more details about this time in your life, but my guess is that it’ll take a while. So I’m thinking that this is a pretty good place to stop for tonight. I don’t know about you, but my ass hurts from sitting here!” Shane laughed with Dan, and nodded to his cameraman so he’d stop filming for the time being. Everyone started standing up and clearing the studio. “I got the text message from Hazel while you were talking earlier. I’m free all day Friday so we can continue the interview then.”

Phil approached while Dan and Shane talked.

“Sounds good,” Dan replied. “I’ll still be in town until Sunday night, so that works great.”

“Shane,” Phil cut in, “since this interview is considerably longer and more in-depth than any of us originally planned, did you want to have a quick strategy meeting in the morning? I’m thinking this is going to be a good deal more than the hour-and-a-half interview you were originally planning.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” Shane said. “I do think I wanna make this into a short series instead, if that’s okay with you. Let’s talk about how we’re doing that tomorrow. 9 AM work for you?”

“Sounds good to me. Dan?”

“Yeah, if Hazel’s available, I think that works.”

 

***

 

Dan and Phil walked side-by-side out into the rapidly cooling air of the early evening. They were silent, but Dan could see Phil occasionally glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. 

Phil had parked right next to Dan. If asked, he would have claimed it was a coincidence, that it was the only free spot.

As they approached the narrow space between their rental cars, Dan opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself.

“What is it?” Phil asked.

“I um… I’m making you look like a monster in there, aren’t I?”

Phil chuckled. “And in other news, you’re also making me look like a foolish kid who thought he could run a record label.”

Dan smiled. He didn’t laugh, but his eyes twinkled. It was enough for Phil to feel emboldened.

“Come to dinner with me,” he said before he could stop himself.

Dan gulped. “I…”

Phil raised his eyebrows in an expectant, silent plea.

“Are you sure?” Dan asked.

Phil nodded. “Very sure.”

“Um. O--okay, uh… Do you wanna meet me somewhere or…”

“Let’s both drive to the hotel so you can drop off your car. I want to take you out properly.”

Dan worked to repress his gasp, instead inhaling slowly but deeply through his nose, as his suspicions as to Phil’s intentions were confirmed. He smiled.

“I think I like that idea,” he said, exhaling.

 

***

 

Phil always was good at finding restaurants. This was a family-owned Italian place, and it smelled incredible. The lighting was just dim enough, the exposed brick on two of the walls made it feel cozy and authentic, one other wall was nothing but wine bottles. Dan, ever the bread lover, found that the still-warm rosemary sourdough bread they served alongside a plate of olive oil & vinegar for dipping was nothing short of incredible.

The bread also made it so Dan’s mouth was too occupied to say anything. And his eyes were to preoccupied with the decor for him to look at Phil.

“Dan?” an increasingly impatient -- and very nervous -- Phil finally said.

Dan no longer had any excuses and was now forced to shift his gaze to Phil. He looked at him mid-chew and hurried to swallow the bread that was in his mouth. “Hm?”

It was, quite frankly, adorable.

“I want to try and cut through the awkward and get to the point here,” Phil began. His shoulders were rolled slightly forward, his eyes darting up to Dan’s and then back down to the table rapidly. He folded his hands together on the tabletop, tapping his fingers against his hands. He breathed. “Is there any chance… like, I mean, I don’t want to put any pressure on you or anything, but…” Phil sighed. “I’m sorry, this isn’t… this is hard, and I don’t really know what I’m doing, honestly, I just…”

Dan put a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Phil,” he said gently. “Remember, when we were younger, you always used to give me enough time to get my thoughts in order enough to say them aloud? The least I could do is grant you the same courtesy.”

Phil smiled sweetly and nodded. “Thanks, Dan.”

Their server approached and asked what they wanted to drink. Phil insisted on the best bottle of red wine they had. A proper recommendation meant knowing what they’d be eating with it, so the server took their dinner orders and promised to return with their wine shortly. And then, Dan and Phil continued sitting in a silence that was far more comfortable than it had been between them earlier in the day.

After half a glass of wine, Phil asked the question that was lingering in his mind without hesitation or fear.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” His tone was genuinely curious, not accusing or judging in any way. It sounded anxious, but hopeful.

Dan froze. “Do I--” After a moment of pleasant surprise, his mind clicked over to confusion instead. He blinked and refocused his eyes on Phil’s. “What?”

Phil wasn’t bold enough to ask again, so he probed for some context to see exactly how foolish the question had been. “Well, I mean…” He shifted his tone to something still curious, but far more neutral. “Are you still dating that, um… Missy?”

“Mindy,” Dan corrected him. “And no, that was like two dates almost a year ago.”

“Oh good.” Phil sighed happily but secretly wanted to kick himself. Whether it was for worrying or for not keeping up with Dan’s love life, he wasn’t sure.

“Um… Phil… not that I’m unhappy to be hearing you ask these questions but… why now? I mean, you’ve barely spoken to me outside of work in… what, almost two years?”

“Yeah, and yet... I can’t help but notice that, erm… you’ve been calling me ‘Phil’.”

“Yeah. That’s your name.”

“No, I mean… if this is really just a work relationship now… why are you not calling me Mr. Lester anymore?”

Dan held his breath. If he really did understand, it had taken him an awfully long time for him to.

“The thing is, listening to the interview today, I’ve only just realized you haven’t called me ‘Mr. Lester’ in years. When you talked about Alice’s funeral, I thought… ‘how funny, him calling me that when we weren’t working used to hurt so badly, and now…’ Lately, even when we’re working, you still call me ‘Phil’. That’s… that’s deliberate, isn’t it?”

Dan nodded.

“So then.. if… if I’m right… you haven’t thought of me as your boss in ages. Yeah?”

Dan’s eyes began to redden and shine.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his voice weak.

“And yet here I am, calling you by your stage name every day since the day we met… just out of habit, because that’s what I’ve always called you. Because that’s how you were introduced to me. And I feel terrible for not knowing that I shouldn’t be doing that. But what gets me is... you  _ never _ corrected me.”

A tear finally pushed its way out of Dan’s eye.

“Even when things were bad between us,” Phil continued, “you thought of me as family. But you never corrected me. You never said not to call you ‘Dan’.” His eyes bore into Dan’s inquisitively, the unasked question -- Why not? -- resonating in Dan’s mind even without it being spoken aloud.

Dan shook his head and broke eye contact, annoyed and ashamed at himself. “It felt like… like if you didn’t do it on your own, it didn’t mean as much. Which is so stupid, I know, it’s just  _ so _ stupid. I mean, how could you have known what to call me if I didn’t tell you?” Dan sniffled. “But part of me didn’t want to tell you. You calling me ‘Dan’ put this sort of… distance between us, and… I thought it was safer. I guess.”

“Then… I guess I should ask permission...” Phil took a breath. “Can I-- From now on, do you think you’d be okay with me… calling you Daniel?”

Dan audibly gasped. Hearing Phil say his full name -- his  _ true _ name -- was startling in how comfortable it was. How right it sounded.

“Say it again,” Dan said, a calm smile creeping across his face.

“Daniel,” Phil said quietly, grinning, loving the way Dan’s full name felt on his lips.

Dan smiled broadly and brightly. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely call me Daniel.”

Phil had never seen Dan looking so radiant, and his resulting giggle rang like a bell in Dan’s only good ear, and Dan was so thankful he had that good ear to hear it.

“Okay,” Phil said, feeling slightly more confidence well up in his chest. “Next question. And… the whole reason I wanted to take you out tonight.”

Dan nodded nervously.

“I... I am prepared for you to say no. I don’t feel I deserve a yes to this question. But I knew if I didn’t try, I’d always regret it. After everything I’ve heard you say today, after everything I now know…” Phil avoided the urge to squeeze his eyes shut. He looked Dan -- Daniel -- dead in the eye and steeled himself in preparation for a no. “When we get back to London… would you… would you consider… trying again? Trying properly? You and me, I mean.”

Dan sighed. His face still looked mostly very calm, and touched, and optimistic, but his expression dropped slightly. 

Phil saw this and panicked a bit. “That… oh god. I’m an idiot for even asking, aren’t I?”

“No!” Dan said sweetly. “Not at all. I um… it’s just that… I honestly don’t know.”

Phil frowned but gave an understanding nod. “Like I said, I was prepared for a no. I honestly didn’t  _ really _ expect you to say yes. But… I did hope.” He gave a bitter smile. “I did want to make sure you knew that… I…  _ I _ do still have feelings for you, Daniel. I never stopped. Ever. Even when it looked like I did, I swear I…” Phil breathed out and let the next few words come out as a whisper. “Oh god, I never stopped loving you.”

Dan wanted so badly to reach out and touch Phil. Hold him, rub his back, kiss him, whatever would make his anxiousness go away.

“And… I  _ was _ a coward,” Phil continued. “I really was. I  _ know _ that. To some degree, I could see it at the time, but… Just like how for you, not correcting me when I called you Dan felt ‘safe,’ I guess caving to the demands of whoever was right in front of me was the safe route for me to take. It was like, if I actually went after what  _ I _ wanted, and then I somehow lost it, I knew it would kill me. So I just did what everyone else wanted instead.” Phil shook his head, working through this aspect of his personality in the moment and marveling at his own stupidity. “I mean, was I scared of  _ happiness? _ God, that’s so weird...”

“Oh, you were definitely scared of happiness.” Dan smirked.

“Why are we psychoanalyzing my inability to make a decision?” Phil said dismissively.

“For my part, I just think it’s cute,” Dan said with a smile and a shrug. “It’s funny how similar we are, honestly. I kept people at a distance because I was scared of losing them. You kept happiness at a distance because you were scared of losing it.”

“Is that something your therapist says?”

“You’re teasing me right now, but yes, actually it is!”

They both laughed.

As they calmed, they gazed into each other’s eyes and smiled delicate smiles. Whatever they had before, it was still there, and they could both feel it quite keenly regardless of what they explicitly told each other tonight.

“If it’s confession time,” Dan said, “I suppose it’s only fair I answer your first question. Yes, Phil. I still have feelings for you.” He smiled. “I never stopped loving you either. But… even now, I still push people away if I’m scared of losing them. I’m just… not capable of reaching for you on purpose if I think there’s any chance I won’t be able to keep hold of you. And the fact that I don’t have a great track record for keeping hold of you  _ really _ doesn’t help matters.”

“Just let me reach for you, then.”

“Phil…”

“I’m serious. I’m the one who has to prove himself to you. Let me do that.”

Dan swallowed and briefly shifted his gaze away. He thought for a moment. He was indeed still afraid of letting Phil get close again. But he also knew that they’d had years to mature since he became engaged to Amanda and destroyed Dan’s entire world. She was no longer in the picture, having shown her true colors after a relatively short marriage, and Dan was single, so why was he hesitating? Why was he still afraid?

“Can I think about it?” Dan asked honestly.

“Take as long as you need. I’ll be here.”

Dan’s face contorted slightly with doubt. “Will you?” he asked.

That stung to hear, Phil had to admit, but he deserved it. He gathered his resolve and held both Dan’s hands. He kissed Dan’s knuckle, placed one hand over the other and held them both, and looked into Dan’s eyes steadily.

“I can only promise you this: I know I have to prove myself, and I will take that duty seriously. I spent years being too cowardly to make a decision about you. I waited for some magical moment to come when I was ready to commit to you properly, but it never came. And it was never going to! I had to take the initiative myself, but I was too stupid to see that. But now, Daniel, I want to take that initiative. If you’ll let me. As soon as you open the door for me, I am going to step through it. It’s a scary step for me, yes, but… you opened that door for me so many times, which must have been scary for  _ you _ . The only thing I can do is… to sit like a guard dog right outside that door waiting for the day you’re ready to let me in. I am not moving. Not  _ ever _ again. I’ve learned how big a mistake that is and I am  _ not _ eager to repeat it!” Phil gave Dan a warm chuckle, and Dan smiled in response. “All you need to do is tell me when you’re ready to love me back, and I promise, I  _ promise, _ I will still be outside your door waiting. Because I love you, Daniel James Howell. I always have and I know I always will. Just... let me know when you’re ready, and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

Once Phil was finished speaking, Dan remembered how to breathe.

He nodded. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay you’ll tell me,” Phil asked nervously, “or... okay you’re ready?”

Dan smiled. “I’ll tell you.”

“Okay.” Phil smiled back.

It wasn’t everything, but it was something. It was more than he’d had in years.

 

***

 

Phil drove Dan back to their hotel, and parked his car next to Dan’s. This was, again, not an accident.

They got out of the car, communicating only in sweet smiles and the occasional giggle. Dinner had been tense, yes, but a fun sort of tense. Neither one was sure if “awkward” was the right word, but they’d both been trying harder than usual to be tidy when eating (not an easy feat with pasta). They’d hid their teeth whenever they smiled or laughed. They’d been self-conscious about wrinkles in their clothes and flyaway hair on their heads. Their faces had been abnormally pink the entire time.

And now, after walking up to the elevator and pressing the “up” button in silence, they were stepping into the elevator.

Phil glanced over at Dan.

He wanted to kiss him.

He wanted to kiss him so badly.

But he didn’t get the chance. Because Dan swooped in and kissed him first.

 

***

 

_ Ding! _

They stumbled out of the elevator clumsily, barely able to detach their lips from one another. They separated for a moment in the middle of the hallway, giggling as they tried to get their bearings.

“Wait, are we…?” Phil said, pointing one way down the hall. Dan looked both ways and nodded.

“Yeah, that way. I think!” He laughed like a child, pulling Phil by the fingers in the general direction of their linked hotel rooms.

“Your place or mine?” Phil said, half-joking.

“Um, I think… mine. Yeah. Definitely mine.” Dan knew his room was clean, because the night before the interview he’d neatly arranged everything he’d unpacked out of sheer boredom. And stress, if he was honest.

He slid his card key in blindly, his back to the door while Phil kissed him passionately. He tried the doorknob more than once, but it didn’t work. He laughed.

“Hang on, I have to see when the green light comes on!” he said, giggling.

Phil reluctantly let him go, but looked at his ass while he opened the door.

They pushed their way into the room, and Dan closed the door and latched it as soon as they got inside. He let his jacket drop off his shoulders and down his arms, and tossed it away as Phil pushed him against the back of the door to continue making out.

Phil’s fingers found their way up Dan’s soft stomach, under the shirt that was protecting it.

“Is this okay?” he asked, just a whisper, but still sounding desperate and needy.

“Yes,” Dan said with a slight nod. “It’s always okay with you.”

Phil smiled and pulled the shirt over Dan’s head.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” Dan replied, and pulled Phil towards the bed.

  
  


***

 

A Life Supreme  
Lyrics/Music: Daniel Howell

 

Honey please, don’t you say anything  
Reality never  
holds a candle to all that you say

So just please, don’t even look my way  
Your eyes are baby blue  
Betraying all the youth in your soul

Opposition, resistance  
It’s a zero sum game  
But if you and I play this tug-of-war  
We have everything and nothing

All I can think  
Is maybe when you spoke of destiny  
The warmth I feel in your hand and your heartbeat  
Is what you meant  
Such supreme tranquility  
You’re alive so that means I love you  
I treasure this quiet moment, let’s pause it  
‘Cause I’ll never want anything more than this.

Darling please, you gotta give me boundaries  
The passion that I feel  
Is gonna scare you to death left unchecked

Punishment for all my crimes,  
It’s a zero sum game  
But I doubt it’s an even trade  
I win loneliness from freedom

All I can think  
Is what if you’d been wrong about destiny?  
I feel like I could have missed out on you ‘cause  
I’m so insecure  
What supreme misery  
But yeah you are alive so I love you  
I treasure this fragile feeling, let’s keep it  
‘Cause I’ll never want anything more than this.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title & lyrics based on "A Life Supreme (chijou no jinsei)" by Sheena Ringo.
> 
> [Here's this chapter's tumblr link for liking & reblogging purposes!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/178843721138/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-2350)
> 
> ALSO!! I wanna do a Spotify playlist for the story. BUT! Would you guys want just the chapter titles, or just Dan's songs that are mentioned, or just the songs where lyrics are quoted, or should I include HKL songs, or just... everything? lol. Let me know!


	24. Break: Far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil have their own things to do on their first full day off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter than usual, but ending it where I ended it just felt REALLY right. :) Enjoy!

_ Bang bang bang. _

“Dan?”

_ Bang bang bang bang bang. _

“Dan!”

Hazel’s muffled voice pushed through the door of Dan’s hotel room, barely making it to Dan’s ears at all. Luckily her obnoxious knocking -- if you can call her full-palm pounding against the door “knocking” -- was enough to wake him.

He sniffled and sat up slowly, groaning. “Hang on!”

“Mmf…” came a muffled grunt from beside him.

Dan looked at the source of the sound. Phil.  _ Oh yeah. Last night Phil and I… oh. Phil and I… Um.  _ He then looked at himself. Indeed, he was naked.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself.

“Wha’s wrong?” Phil mumbled.

“Sssh!” Dan said, pressing his hands to Phil’s mouth. Hazel knocked again.  _ Bang bang bang. _

“Dan, you better be out of bed!” she called. “We have a videoconference with Shane in five minutes!”

Dan winced and finally stood up. While slipping on a bathrobe, he then heard a man’s voice from out in the hall. He couldn’t understand what he said, but he did sound angry.

“Oi, shove off!” came Hazel’s irritated reply. Dan chuckled and looked knowingly at Phil, who was smiling and shaking his head at Hazel.

Dan finally opened the door, positioning himself in the doorway to block Hazel’s view of the occupied bed. “Good morning,” he said with the most fake, most obviously nervous smile he’d ever donned in his life.

“Yes, good morning. Get your laptop booted up. You now have three minutes.” Just before turning away, Hazel called over Dan’s shoulder, “Good morning to you too, Phil!”

Phil froze. “Um…. good morning,” he squeaked out.

“How did you…” Dan muttered.

“Well that tie sure isn’t yours,” she said, pointing at the navy blue necktie that was indeed clumsily draped over the television. She smirked and headed back over to her own room without another word.

Dan shut the door and rushed to put a shirt on, tossing Phil one as well.

“Obviously pants aren’t a necessity,” Dan said, “but we should probably not be naked, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Phil said groggily, getting half-dressed.

 

***

 

Dan and Phil being in the same hotel room at 9 in the morning wasn’t all that suspicious to Shane, apparently. He didn’t say anything or make any knowing gestures, at the very least. The conversation generally focused on what supplemental materials Shane could use in the final documentary series - behind-the-scenes footage of the tours, scans from the journals (which Dan was more than happy to provide), family photos, that sort of thing. They decided to make it at least a two-movie series, or perhaps four shorter episodes, but the run time would be about three and a half hours in its final version.

Shane was very clearly excited, and Dan had to admit he was pretty excited to get all this stuff out in the open as well. Nervous, yes, but excited.

When the call finally ended, Dan shut his laptop.

He and Phil sat in slightly nervous silence on the sofa there in Dan’s suite, glancing at each other and making nervous thinking gestures.

“So…” Phil said.

“Yeah…” Dan replied.

“We should talk.”

“Agreed.”

But then, Phil didn’t follow that up. Dan wondered if Phil was having as hard a time piecing his thoughts together as he was.

“Last night was…” Dan finally said.

“...Yeah.” Phil said, nodding.

“I didn’t intend for it to um… for it to mean that we’re, like…” Dan gestured vaguely between himself and Phil.

“Together?” Phil guessed, and Dan nodded. “Yeah, no,” Phil continued. “I didn’t think so, I figured that was just, like… y’know… just for fun, I guess...”

“Well,” Dan said, slightly agitated. “It wasn’t just me, like… fucking around, either.”

“No?”

“No. I promise. That wasn’t just… a throwaway thing.”

“Oh.” Phil’s expression softened.

“I guess it was definitely, like… post-date, pre-commitment sex. You know? We’re not officially together, like…  _ officially _ officially. But… it… it did  _ mean _ something.” Dan nodded reassuringly.

Phil smiled. “Good.”

“I just didn’t want you to think that like… I’d suddenly decided after literally  _ just _ telling you I needed to think about it.”

“Oh, yeah, no, of course not! That’d be sil-- I mean it wouldn’t be  _ silly, _ you know when you know, but yeah I guess it would have been, um… weird? No, not weird. It...” Phil sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m handling this so badly.”

Dan chuckled fondly. “You’re doing fine!” he said. “It’s kind of nice to see you flustered like this, actually. It’s… cute.”

They smiled at one another for a moment.

“I um…” Dan started. “I have a thing I’m doing today, so I have to like… get properly dressed.”

Phil was overwhelmed with curiosity as to what Dan was doing that day. He’d know if it were work-related, but this was news to him so apparently it was personal. But if Dan wanted him to know about it, he’d have said something. So he didn’t ask. “Okay! I’ll get my trousers on and head back to my room then.”

“Okay,” Dan said, his voice still quiet and warm and sweet, his face still bright but in a sleepy sort of way. Phil gathered up his clothes and started getting dressed, wondering all the while if a quick kiss to say “bye” for the day was appropriate or not. Dan was putting his clothes on at the same time, wondering the exact same thing.

Once they were both mostly dressed, Dan threw caution to the wind and draped his arms over Phil’s shoulders.

“Have a good day, Darling,” Phil said.

Dan chuckled. “I wish you had your glasses on. The old-timey husband thing would really suit you.”

Phil smiled at that. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a fluffy dress and apron.”

Dan planted a sweet, happy peck on Phil’s lips. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and Dan was all smiles when he pulled away.

“I’m still thinking about it,” he said, “but I’m leaning towards yes.”

“I’ll do my best not to mess this up, then,” Phil replied.

“Thank you,” Dan said and gave Phil one last peck before turning him towards the door. “Now get going, I have to brush my teeth and get this hair sorted out before I leave!”

“Your hair looks fine!” Phil said as he stepped out, both him and Dan overflowing with general positive feelings. Smiles, giggles, sighs… Phil even felt a bounce in his step as he headed back to his room.

Dan, meanwhile, gazed in the general direction of the closed door once Phil had gone. He reluctantly turned towards the bed and flopped backwards onto it with a sharp sigh.

He stared at the ceiling and just basked in the optimism he felt. Maybe Phil was worth pursuing again. He’d felt like a teenager again all of a sudden, and in only the good ways. Phil had always had this way of making Dan feel worthy, wanted, loved, precious, and important. At least most of the time.

Could Phil be trusted to commit to him if he gave him a chance?

Dan pondered this and grabbed the pillow Phil had been sleeping on. He hugged it tightly, burying the lower half of his face in the fluffy, cool fabric.

It smelled like Phil’s shampoo.

Dan smiled like the lovestruck idiot he was.

 

***

 

“Are you relocating to L.A. permanently?” the real estate agent asked while she drove down the highway. She was a smartly dressed woman in her early 40s who confessed that she did enjoy some Dan Howell songs but she wasn’t an enormous fan. His music was more her son’s thing than hers.

“You know what,” Dan said thoughtfully from the passenger seat, “I was going to, but I’m thinking this house will just be where I stay when I’m in town for work now.”

“That makes sense. I have a few clients who’ve chosen to do the same thing. One singer from Hong Kong, one composer & pianist from Japan, a couple of people from Japan actually, a boyfriend-girlfriend pop duo from New York… It makes sense to have multiple home bases when work has you traveling, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Alright, here’s our first place. It’s a fairly modest place, 4 bedrooms, 3 baths. Good for having family over but not so huge it’s overwhelming if you’ll be living here by yourself.”

The house was gated and required a code, so she pulled up and dialed it into the keypad. The driveway was unpaved, the gravel making ambient crunch noises as they drove over it.

This place was a bit too traditional for Dan’s taste, and he said so, but the inside was nice and spacious. He was into the open floor plan, but not the design of the staircase. It didn’t feel ‘him.’

The next house was bigger, at 6 bedrooms and 4 baths. The master bedroom was enormous and felt like its own hotel suite. The kitchen was the real selling point for him though. Modern fixtures, black appliances. He wasn’t a fan of the carpeting on the floor and knew he’d never get around to calling people to come in and replace them with hard wood, though, and the entry gate was on its last legs. It was a nice place, but he didn’t want the responsibility of it.

The last house they looked at, though… it felt right.

The five bedroom included a spacious loft that would be perfect for playing video games. The home theater felt like an actual home theater, with a red curtain flanking either side of a projection screen. The gigantic study - which was separate from the bedrooms - would make for a flawless home recording studio. He even got his modern, black kitchen and nice bedroom suite. But one thing made it completely perfect.

The living room had floor-to-ceiling windows for one wall. It faced north so the sun would never be in his eyes. And all he could think was “Phil would love this one.”

“This one,” Dan said. “This is the one.”

“Excellent!” the real estate agent said, not expecting Dan would actually commit to a home today. 

They headed back to her office and Dan signed the necessary paperwork. He’d be able to move his things in on the first of the month.

He now officially had an L.A. home.

 

***

 

Dan walked past Phil’s room on the way to his own. He thought briefly about knocking, but changed his mind. He had probably had enough interpersonal interaction for one day, what with his real estate adventure. He’d tell Phil about the house tomorrow.

He wasn’t sure why he wanted Phil to like his L.A. house so badly, but he really did.

He headed into his room, took off his jacket and shoes, and relaxed on the bed with his laptop. Nearly the moment he sat down, however, his phone started ringing. The name he saw on the screen was one he didn’t expect at all.

Anthony Padilla.

He tentatively picked up the phone and slid the button to answer.

“Hello?”

 

***

 

In his room, Phil was writing an e-mail.

“Dear…”

No. Dear felt wrong. This was business, and Dear felt friendly or romantic.

“To…”

To?! This wasn’t a sticky note, it was an e-mail. A serious, important email.

He omitted the greeting entirely and just started writing the content of the e-mail. He’d figure out the greeting later.

“I have been dissatisfied for some time with the direction…” ugh. Was that right? It seemed too cold. He wasn’t angry, strictly speaking, and didn’t want to sound angry. He deleted the line.

“Due to the direction you have decided to take…” Now that just sounded accusatory. That wasn’t his intention either. He deleted that too.

Why was this so difficult? All Phil was doing was admitting to himself what he really wanted, and letting himself have it. It should not be so difficult. He needed to not be a coward anymore.

He wanted to make Dan proud of him, for some reason. And as soon as he thought of Dan, the right words came to him.

“Lately, I have been feeling like the company’s focus has differed from my own priorities.” That was perhaps a bit soft, but he had no reason to impress these people anymore. This felt right. This felt like what he would say.

“I started this company with a particular vision in mind,” he typed. “Fair pay for artists, fair prices for fans, and excitement for everyone. I wanted this, an entertainment company, to focus on everyone having fun. However, in recent years, as the company has grown, the bottom line has become the new focus by necessity. As much as it pains me to do so, I must acknowledge that the Lester Music of 2019 is not the Lester Music I envisioned or began to build ten years ago. Therefore, it is with great sadness that I must tender my resignation as president and board member of Lester Music, effective two weeks from the date of this e-mail.”

Phil finished the e-mail, greeting and all, and let the mouse pointer hover over the "Send" button.

Was he ready for this kind of commitment?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Far away" by Ayumi Hamasaki.


	25. Break: Do It Again/It Was You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Wednesday, Phil wrestles with a big decision and Dan has a visit with an old friend. On Thursday, Dan and Phil spend their last day off together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really tough to write - not because of any difficult content, but because I didn't want to just fast-forward everything, you know? So I'm sorry this took as long as it did - I'm up WAY too late right now!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter. It's a pretty good mix of mild angst, exposition, fluff, and rather romantic smut at the end.
> 
> tw: a mild panic attack is described partway through the chapter; there's also smut that's mostly pretty mild & not graphic, but there is minor injury at the end of it.

“Anthony?” Dan said when he answered, as if he didn’t already know that’s who was calling.

“Hey stranger!” Anthony said, the smile audible in his voice. “I hope you don’t mind me calling. I saw photos of some familiar neighborhoods on your instagram today, so…”

“Yeah, no not at all!” Dan said truthfully. “It’s great to hear from you.”

“I thought I’d see if you wanted to get together and catch up. God knows it’s been long enough!”

Dan chuckled. “Yeah, it has been awhile. I’m sorry, I haven’t been in town long enough to hang out until now.”

“How long you in town for?”

“Until Monday, actually, so a good while. I have an interview I’m doing Friday but aside from that I’m mostly free.” He’d left himself more time to look at houses when planning the trip, but since he’d already found his future L.A. home, he had nothing else planned. “Did you want to get lunch or something this weekend? Like Saturday?”

“Naw, my weekend’s pretty busy already. Your interview isn’t until Friday, are you free tomorrow night?”

“Yeah! Do you want to go to that place in Little Tokyo that you took me to last time? The one that was open super late?”

“Oh holy shit, that brings back memories!” 

“That was a... fun night,” Dan said with a nervous laugh, trying not to remember too fondly the last time they were in Los Angeles together. Since he didn’t think of Anthony in a romantic way anymore, memories of the two of them being intimate had become somewhat embarrassing. It wasn’t dissimilar to the feeling of having a sexy dream about a friend or co-worker and having to face them the next day. 

“Yeah,” Anthony said, chuckling bashfully. “So tomorrow then! What time works?”

“Up to you, mate, you know I’m a night person. Anytime’ll do.”

“Alright, I’ll come get you at like 8 so we don’t have to deal with commuters but we can still wander around for a bit after we eat.”

“Walk off the noodle calories,” Dan laughed.

“Exactly,” Anthony said happily. “Where are you staying?”

 

***

 

The next morning, Phil still hadn’t made a decision yet.

He paced the floor of his hotel room, still wrapped in a bathrobe post-shower, glancing at his laptop screen with a scrunched face. That e-mail was taunting him. Phil felt as though he was sizing it up.

_ You can do this. There are so many good reasons to quit. Do it. Come on, Phil. Hit ‘send.’ _

With a frustrated grumble, he sat on the edge of his bed and stared into the middle distance while he did a quick self-evaluation. The facts were these: One, he had become accustomed to his life as it currently was, and change scared the shit out of him. Two, he was indeed unhappy with Defranco Media’s take on how to run the label, and the board outvoted him more frequently than he would like. Three, he had enough money saved up to retire. He certainly didn’t want to yet, he wanted to work because he needed something to do with his life, but he didn’t have the ‘but I need to pay the bills’ reason to stay with Lester Music. Four, he had loved his job in the past but nowadays wasn’t sure if he really  _ still _ loved it, or if he was simply waiting in vain for it to someday be like it used to be. Five, if he quit, he wouldn’t be working with the artists he’d helped to grow and shape anymore. He wouldn’t be their boss anymore.

And… he wouldn’t be Daniel’s boss anymore.

Phil paused.

If he wasn’t Daniel’s boss anymore, that meant he had no reason not to commit to him. He had no power over him, so a romantic partnership with him could be just that - a partnership. Two people on equal ground going through life  _ together, _ side by side, neither of them above the other in any way.

That meant, though, that Phil would no longer have any excuse for not committing to him. He wanted to quit Lester Music because he was unhappy with Lester Music, but he knew Daniel would have certain expectations regarding Phil’s relationship status with him once he did. The sad truth was Daniel would expect Phil to approach him the very next moment to basically ask “Hey, remember how you said you’d think about it? I’m not your boss anymore, so what do think now?”

It wasn’t that Phil didn’t want to ask Daniel out as soon as he’d resigned. He actually really did. But he wasn’t sure he liked feeling that pressure. Quitting would take an awful lot of will power and courage on Phil’s part - what if he didn’t have enough will to then talk to Daniel again about the two of them?

He flopped backwards onto the plush hotel mattress, arms outstretched.

_ If I send this e-mail, I need to talk to Daniel about us the very next moment. Otherwise, the pressure will almost definitely crush me like a bug. _

_ Can I do that? _

 

***

 

Dan & Anthony walked into the cozy Japanese style restaurant to joyful cries of “irasshaimase!” Dan always loved that. He smiled.

They sat, both ordering different types of ramen, and talked about how they’ve been the last couple of years. They’d both stopped straightening their hair, but that was where their commonalities ceased. Dan was eating a bit healthier, sure, but Anthony had become a full-time healthy food hobbyist, for lack of a better term. Dan only did as much exercise as was needed to improve his breathing and balance, while Anthony was constantly looking for ways to optimize his physical performance. The dancing world was much more competitive in Los Angeles, though, so that made sense. Dan’s self-improvement was more externally focused, and included things like supporting more charities (many that the public didn’t even know about) and trying to reduce how much he threw away. Anthony was definitely just a naturally self-centered person -- not in an  _ evil _ way, mind; his interests were simply more localized to the self, however sweet and polite and genuinely considerate he’d become over time. And, of course, whenever Dan got philosophical about life, the universe, and everything, Anthony’s eyes would mostly glaze over. He’d nod politely and listen, but Dan could see he’d lost him, so he made sure to steer the conversation back to less abstract things.

Basically, Dan came away from this friendly dinner glad that they were just friends, and delighted that there was no temptation to have anything romantic with Anthony ever again. In fact, he was wondering why he was so taken with Anthony in the first place. It was a relief, honestly. Clearly the decision to be friends was the right one.

Anthony paid the entire check, tipping 25%, and took Dan back to the hotel.

 

***

 

Unable to commit to a decision, Phil had been sat on his bed watching TV for hours. The hotel smart TV had Netflix and YouTube and other such apps installed, so he marathoned some of his favorite shows. Then he watched some of Dan’s videos on his official YouTube channel.

He hadn’t seen the video for “Do It Again.” The song and video were made during one of Dan’s best creative periods - his “screw the critics, this isn’t for them, I’m expressing myself” phase between 2016 and 2018. The song was about the pressure of being a dancing monkey for the cameras, basically. The lyrics were framed as a conversation with himself; a reconciliation between Dan Howell’s responsibilities and Daniel James Howell’s needs as a human being. When Daniel was writing and recording this song, he’d told Phil it was specifically about his decision to go on shorter tours less often in order to protect his hearing and relieve the stress on his body. And no doubt, that was the real motivation for writing it two years ago.

But the thing was, Daniel had a talent for lyrics that were oddly specific but could be interpreted multiple ways, which was probably why his fans all heard their own stories in every word he wrote. And sure enough, that was happening to Phil now.

 

_ I remember you telling me all about  
_ _ Your dreams and the reasons why you did what you did  
_ _ I can't help but wonder where that dream has gone  
_ __ Have you even realized the shape it's in?

 

Phil’s ears perked up as he watched Dan walking through the Universal Studios backlot where they’d shot the video. It was an apocalyptic suburban neighborhood that was originally built for the War of the Worlds remake. Dan fell completely in love with it when they were touring locations.

 

_ I remember your voice telling me something else  
_ _ "Giving up completely would be the saddest thing"  
_ _ But that isn't true for everything that we do  
_ __ There will come a time when you must let something go

_ You say it's a dream...  
_ _ I only talk of dreams... _

_ Dance, dance, dance, do it again  
_ _ Dance, dance, dance, do it again  
_ _ Sing, sing, sing, do it again  
_ __ Sing, sing, sing, do it again.

 

Was Dan singing to him? It was almost like Phil was destined to click on this particular video, and listen to these exact words.

 

_ Are you feeling warmer realizing the truth?  
_ _ Do you feel the freedom that comes with letting go?  
_ _ Are you feeling pressure now that you know the truth?  
_ __ Do you see what's still inside your hands? Let it go...

 

Phil’s mouth was hanging open as he unconsciously nodded.

 

_ We were children when we learned responsibility  
_ _ "Never rock the boat," "don't take a risk," "don't run away"  
_ _ And now the heaviness is what makes us feel at home  
_ __ Grow up now and see the courage in dropping the weight

_ What do you think now...?  
_ _ Have you changed your mind...? _

_ Dance, dance, dance, do it again  
_ _ Dance, dance, dance, do it again  
_ _ Sing, sing, sing, do it again  
_ __ Sing, sing, sing, do it again.

 

He hopped up and approached his laptop. He moved the mouse cursor to get rid of the screensaver, and hovered over the ‘send’ button once again.

He inhaled.

_ I can,  _ he thought. _ I can do this. I can drop the weight of this job, this job I don’t even like, that holds no meaning for me anymore. I do see the shape my dream is in. It is gone. It’s time for me to let go. I know I can let go. _

_ I can. _

_...I think. _

He closed his eyes and, before he could pull his hand back, he clicked.

He opened his eyes and could see the words “message sent.” The word “Undo” was next to it still, but before he could react, it vanished. Too late now - the deed was done.

_ Oh my god I did it. _

And the funniest thing happened. He didn’t actually feel any pressure at all. He felt  _ free. _

He took the easiest breath he’d taken in years.

Now he had to see if Daniel was available to just sit and chat with him for a bit. It would take some more gathering of courage to tell him about this, but he had to give himself the opportunity. So he put on some proper (casual) clothes and headed to Daniel’s room.

 

***

 

Dan sat in the car next to Anthony, who was clearly waiting for an invitation upstairs. The silence was the sort of awkward that the word “awkward” was invented for.

Dan gave Anthony a polite smile. “Thanks for paying for dinner,” he finally said. “That was very kind of you.”

Anthony, knowing now that there was not going to be a casual hookup of any sort tonight, shrugged it off. “Hey, no big. I figure if I’m nice you’ll hang out with me again next time you’re in town.”

Dan nodded and reached for the door handle.

“Hey, Dan?” Anthony said.

“Hm?”

“Do you have any, like… regrets about… how it all panned out?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“Not one bit,” Dan replied. “I think we were what each other needed at the time. And I think we’re past that now. I’m glad we were together, and I’m glad we separated.”

Anthony looked mildly disappointed by that answer at first, but eventually tilted his head, raised his eyebrows momentarily in agreement, and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I think I’m with you on that.”

Dan smiled a bright, relieved smile and leaned in to give Anthony a big, friendly hug. Anthony returned it gladly.

“Thanks again,” Dan said over Anthony’s shoulder. “It was really good catching up.”

Anthony pulled away from the hug with a calm, genuinely joyful expression. “You’re welcome. It really was great seeing you.”

“I’ll let you know next time I’m in town.”

“Cool. I look forward to it. Tell Phil I said hi, will you?”

“Of course. Take care of yourself, Anthony.”

“You too.”

 

***

 

Daniel turned out of the elevator into the corridor where his room was, and heard Phil’s voice somewhat distantly, echoing through the hallway.

“Dan? Erm... Daniel? Are you there?”

“Phil?” Daniel said once he was close enough to be seen and heard.

Phil turned to face Daniel, surprised. “Oh!” he said. “Oh you’re not… you’re not in there.” His hands were awkwardly shoved into his back pockets as he nodded his head slowly. Dan smirked at how endearing the nervous posture was. “That… that would explain… you not answering the door.”

“No, I was out. I was having dinner with Anthony. He says hi, by the way.”

“You… you were with Anthony?” Phil asked, his face scrunched in confusion.

“Well… yeah, I’m in town, and we hadn’t had a chance to see each other in person in years. I mean, we’re not constantly texting each other or anything but it’s not like I never speak to the guy.”

Phil felt himself go pale. Daniel’s face suddenly looked intensely concerned and he walked up to Phil with a quick pace.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Here, let me…” Daniel muttered as he quickly slid the key card into the lock on his door and let them both in. Phil looked a bit stunned and panicked and Daniel wasn’t sure why. “Do you need water or something?” he asked, putting a hand on Phil’s head to check his temperature.

“Why were you out with Anthony?" Phil asked while Daniel grabbed a bottle of water out of the minibar. Sure, it’d cost $10, but who the hell cared. Dan Howell had plenty of money and Phil might need the water.

“Just to catch up,” Daniel said, handing the water to Phil, who just sort of held it for a few moments before slowly opening it.

“Really?” Phil asked cautiously.

“Is that what has you all worried?” Daniel asked. He had every right to sound angry or offended, but he didn’t.

Phil simply nodded in response and drank his water, calming down the panic attack he now realized he’d been having.

“Oh god, Phil, no. No no no, I promise, there is no way I’d get back together with Anthony. Or even hook up with him. He’s… so far from that part of my brain now. Oh god. Oh god, Phil. I had no idea you’d… oh my god. I am so sorry you even  _ kind of _ thought that I would… ugh. I’m sorry.”

Phil found himself chuckling lightly at Daniel’s concern. “It’s okay, Daniel.”

Daniel smiled. “I hope I never get too used to you calling me that.”

Phil smiled back. He took a sip of his water and breathed.

“So um…” Daniel started. “What brings you over here?”

_ Crap. _ Phil felt himself begin to panic again, but he took a breath and successfully staved it off. “I um… Mostly just wanted to hang out. I um… I do have some news though!”

Dan gasped and smiled. “You’re pregnant?” he joked.

Phil joined Daniel in a hearty laugh and found his anxiety almost entirely alleviated. It was as if Daniel knew exactly what to say and do whenever he needed a distraction from stress. 

“Sadly, no!” Phil said.

“What d’you mean, ‘sadly’?”

Phil gave his shoulder a playful shove.

“Sorry,” Daniel giggled. “Go ahead, you have some news.”

“Yeah, I um… I’m quitting.”

“Quitting?”

“I’m um… I’m leaving Lester Music.”

“You… you’re  _ leaving? _ ”

Phil nodded.

“W… but why?” Daniel asked, tilting his head, genuinely shocked by this news. 

“It’s just… it’s not  _ my _ Lester Music anymore. It’s not my brother’s Lester Music. It’s not even  _ your _ Lester Music. Defranco has the new artists signing 360 deals. He’s still insisting on geoblocking releases. He’s too quick to pull down fan covers on YouTube. There's so much he's doing that's just… Yes, he’s the reason why the company has grown so much so fast. And don’t get me wrong, I love that it’s created jobs, and I love that you’ve been able to put on the big shows you want to put on. But… that’s not  _ my _ company. I was happy with slow growth, I was happy with being able to work more closely with just a few artists, like you. But I’m miserable now, Daniel.” Phil sighed and leaned forward while Daniel rubbed his back affectionately. It calmed him, and he was really glad he wasn’t alone working through his feelings of disappointment. “I’m sorry. I don’t begrudge you any of the resources the bigger company has allowed you to have, I promise. But… it’s just not for me anymore. And it hasn’t been for years. I’m stretched too thin, and the work doesn’t even make me happy most of the time anymore. But I can’t fix it. I can’t make it like it was. I don’t have that power anymore. So today I decided that all I could do was… drop the weight.”

Daniel smiled. “I’m gonna miss having you around at work, but…” he paused, and Phil looked up at him. Daniel gazed into his eyes lovingly and warmly. “I’m so proud of you,” he finished, whispering. His eyes shimmered.

Phil nodded. “Thanks.”

“What brought this on though?”

Phil laughed and looked down. “Oh god… it’s the funniest thing.”

“What?”

“I’d never seen the finished version of the ‘Do It Again’ video. So I watched it. And… I found myself relating so much to the lyrics all of a sudden.”

“You’re kidding!” Daniel laughed, looking oddly pleased with himself.

“No! I mean… all that stuff about my dream not having turned out how I expected, that sometimes the brave thing is to let go, I mean… it was like… you were singing to me. And there I go, probably sounding like a stupid fan -- oh god, not that your fans are stupid, I mean I am a fan, you know. I’m your biggest fan, actually, and--”

“Phil!” Daniel said, smiling. “Phil, calm down. First off, you’re my biggest fan?” He put his hand over his heart and looked at him in a warmly joking way. “Aw. That is… legitimately the sweetest thing you could possibly say.”

While Daniel laughed at himself, Phil smiled shyly and scratched the back of his head.

“Secondly, I wrote the lyrics like that for a reason, you know.”

“I know, you like when fans can hear their own stories in your songs…”

“No,” Daniel said, chuckling. “No, I mean this song in particular.”

Phil tilted his head curiously.

“The thing is… I lied when I told you that song was about me. Flat-out lied. And I’m sorry about that. But I didn’t want you to think--”

“Wait, Daniel, wait. Are you saying that song… was about me? This whole time?!”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Phil said, pausing and staring into space for a second. During that second, a rush of realization overtook his mind. At the time the song was written, Defranco media had already started irreparably warping the label into the unkillable beast it currently was. Phil was already dreading coming to work every morning, and would reminisce about when times were simpler at every given opportunity. He recalled Dan calling him ‘old man’ whenever he got that way.

Daniel, he realized, probably desperately wanted to convince Phil to quit, but Phil would have absolutely refused, unwilling to risk his steady, reliable job in the pursuit of real happiness for himself. Daniel knew, even then, that the lyrics needed a double meaning so Phil wouldn’t really hear the message until he was ready to hear it. When he was  _ almost _ brave enough, but just needed that extra push. And now, that moment had finally happened.

Phil smirked and looked Daniel in the eye again. “Oh you are good at your job, Daniel.”

“Hey," Daniel giggled, "I couldn’t have gotten to this level of skill without you, you know."

“So,” Phil said. “Wanna watch a movie until we pass out from what exhausting days we've had?”

“Well I went out, what did you do all day?”

“Panicked,” Phil said matter-of-factly, grinning sarcastically.

Daniel laughed. “Fair enough. That does burn some calories.” He gave Phil a light poke on the arm. “Okay. But on two conditions.”

“Yeah?”

“One, I pick the movie. Two, I snuggle with you like you’re a giant Snorlax plushie.”

Phil chuckled. “Okay, okay,” he said joyfully. “If you absolutely insist.”

“I do. Snuggles are essential.”

Later that night, Daniel had fallen asleep on Phil's shoulder. Phil smiled, grabbed the remote to turn off the TV, and scooped Daniel up in his arms. He gently lay Daniel down on his bed, and pulled the covers over him. Daniel didn't even blink, remaining asleep the entire time. Phil kissed Daniel on the forehead and stroked his hair for just a moment. Eventually, he found the willpower to tear himself away, and he headed back to his own room.

 

***

 

Thursday was a good day. Phil got dressed and headed over to Daniel’s hotel room first thing. He half expected Daniel to not even be awake yet, but in fact brunch had already been ordered from a nearby family restaurant and delivered to the room.

“Oh my god, what smells so good?” Phil asked as he stepped inside.

“You still love american pancakes, yeah?” Daniel asked, already knowing the answer. It was right around then that Phil noticed the fluffy, sweet stack of rainbow-sprinkled pancakes sitting on the table in the suite lounge.

“Y--you ordered food for me too!" Phil exclaimed. "And you remembered my favorite kind!"

“Kind of hard to forget those rainbow-coloured monstrosities,” Daniel said, his arms folded. He watched amusedly while Phil excitedly sat on the sofa in front of his plate. "Those pancakes really are ridiculous."

“I’ll ridiculous your mum,” Phil said as Daniel sat down next to him.

Daniel snickered and shook his head. He turned on the TV set, which he’d rotated so it faced the sofa, and opened up Netflix.

 

***

 

After they’d eaten and watched one too many of their favorite Adventure Time episodes, Daniel took Phil to “my L.A. house.”

“It’s the funniest thing,” Daniel said. “I liked a couple of other places okay, but they all had one thing that just kept me from really being into it. And then I got to this one, and it had all the features I wanted, plus…” He gestured toward the windows that Phil was already happily looking out of.

“It really is nice,” he said. He wanted to ask so badly if he had intended to buy this house for both of them, if he had already been thinking that far ahead. It felt like a silly question though. Of course he didn’t do that. The windows were a fringe benefit, not a feature Daniel needed so Phil would enjoy the house more.

“Um…” Daniel coughed nervously. He wanted to say that the windows were for Phil, but he stopped himself. It felt like a silly reason to buy the house. Phil would probably make fun of him for being dramatic.

“Hm?” Phil said, turning towards Daniel.

“There’s more to the house than the living room. Want to see the rest of it?”

 

***

 

They ate dinner in Chinatown, at a rather nicely decorated dim sum place. Daniel tried to teach Phil how to pronounce “baozi” properly -- something he’d learned during his tour through Asia a few years back -- but mostly failed. The resulting giggle fit nearly got them thrown out, but Dan apologized in that charming way he does and they finished their meal happily.

 

***

 

They sauntered back into Dan’s hotel room after their long day out and collapsed on the sofa.

Daniel groaned. “I don’t wanna go back to work tomorrow,” he whined.

Phil laughed. “Like sitting and talking to Shane Dawson all day is so bad. You were having fun with him on Tuesday!”

“Fair enough. But i’m having more fun with you today.”

Phil smiled. He reached over and grabbed Dan’s hand.

Dan stared at their fingers and wove his in between Phil’s. “When was the last time we just… hung out like this?” he mused. “Just enjoyed each other’s company. No work, no drama, no writing, no producing, no practice. Just… us.”

“It’s been a long time,” Phil replied.

“I think I was still living with mum & Nana.”

Phil hummed in agreement.

“No wonder I’ve felt like a kid all day,” Dan said with a smirk.

“I forgot how much I liked you,” Phil said.

Dan started to laugh. “What?”

“I’m serious! Think about it. It’s just been work between us for ages. I knew I  _ liked _ you, I could  _ remember _ liking you. But…”

“It was hard to remember why.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I think I know what you mean actually.”

“It’s funny, people use cheesy sayings like ‘I fell in love with you all over again,’ but… I think… after the last few days…” Phil couldn’t help but chuckle at himself in disbelief. He was actually about to say this? “I think I really have fallen in love with you all over again.”

Daniel gazed at Phil for a moment. “Me too,” he said. He slowly sat up and and delicately placed his free hand on Phil’s cheek. He leaned in. “Is this okay?” he whispered.

“More than okay,” Phil said, and closed the distance between them.

The kiss was new, in a hundred different ways. It may not have been the first time he’d kissed Phil, but it was certainly the first time in a long time. The Phil that Daniel had last kissed was desperately lonely. The Phil he’d kissed before that was passionate and excited.

But the Phil he was kissing now was in real, true love with him. Not wildly in love or crazily in love, no; deeply and comfortably in love.

It felt completely different. Phil’s lips felt like home to Daniel, and Daniel’s felt so to Phil. The same free feeling that Phil experienced when sending his resignation was what he felt now.

Contentment was something that, if he ever encountered it, he expected to find underwhelming and dully calm, but the relaxation he felt all through his body, mind, and soul as they kissed was profound and perceptible to a level he found, frankly, shocking. He’d had no idea it would feel like this, finally going after what he wanted and nearly having it. If he’d realized how light it would make him feel, if he’d had any idea how much it illuminated all of his existence, he’d have gone for it years earlier.

As he and Daniel made love that night, his body slowly rocking forward and back as if trying to absorb Daniel’s warmth and emotion and keep it for himself forever, his eyes filled with silent, happy tears. He’d loved Daniel for so long, but tonight, right now… he finally knew Daniel really was the love of his life. True happiness, he now knew, was right there, within his grasp. And its name was Daniel James Howell.

And Daniel could not take his eyes off Phil’s face as they moved in sync with one another. The goal, both of them seemed to silently agree, was to stay as one for as long as possible. It was like a slow dance they were doing, and desperately wanted to continue to do forever. Daniel had always known he loved Phil and that Phil loved him. But as he watched Phil gaze at him with those sky blue eyes, something in him shifted. Suddenly, he knew that Phil was his 'one.' Phil was, and always had been, that ‘one true love’ that you read about in stories. Not the practical choice, not the exciting choice, but the  _ obvious _ choice. The person who makes you feel at home. The person who makes you feel like you’re where you belong. True love, he realized, was right here, holding him in his arms. And its name was Phil Lester.

 

_ And in the end,   
_ _ if the angels ask me to tell them what love is,  
_ __ I’ll say it was you.

 

Daniel realized how scared he was. All at once, it hit him.

_ I lose everyone, _ he thought.

He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut so tears couldn’t escape. He wrapped his arms and legs around Phil and tightened his embrace, desperate to keep him close.

Phil, not knowing the exact reason for this sudden shift in Daniel’s position, let the intensity of the moment drive his movement, and he sped up.

“Phil,” Daniel moaned. “Oh god, Phil… please… please…” He didn’t even know what he was asking for.  _ Please make me come, please go faster, please fuck me harder… please don’t go away like everyone else does… _ perhaps all of the above.

Phil dug his hips into Daniel as fast and as deep as he could, and as Daniel’s orgasm approached he dug his nails into Phil’s back.

“Come for me, angel,” Phil whispered.

Daniel screamed out, sobbing as the wave hit, and he dragged his nails across Phil’s back. Phil cried out from the pain of Daniel’s fervent scratching, and came almost immediately.

Phil’s eyes fluttered almost shut as he came down from his high, and he eventually collapsed onto Daniel. They let their breathing calm for a moment. Daniel stared at the ceiling over Phil’s shoulder and wiped the tears away, feeling an unprecedented sort of emotional and physical exhaustion. He wondered how he could  _ possibly _ talk about the next part of his life in the interview tomorrow.

The sound of Phil hissing in pain snapped Daniel back to reality. He saw Phil attempting to roll over and failing to do so comfortably.

“Here, turn around so I can see it,” Daniel offered.

Phil turned so he was facing away from Daniel, who suddenly started giggling, even between sniffles.

“What is it?” Phil said.

“Go look in the mirror,” Daniel replied. “You’ll see.”

Phil reluctantly stood up, and headed to the bathroom. Back to the mirror, he turned his head awkwardly over his shoulder to see what Daniel found so amusing.

There was a bright red line of blood under his right shoulderblade, going at almost exactly the same angle as Daniel’s big scar. What’s more, there was a shorter red line under Phil’s left shoulderblade.

Daniel approached and stood next to Phil, looking back into the mirror the same way.

“Look at that, we’re a matching set,” Daniel quipped.

Phil looked at Daniel and smirked. “I could have told you that,” he said.

 

***

 

Daniel and Phil lay in bed, still naked and pink and somewhat sweaty, but now mostly cleaned up and, in Phil’s case, bandaged. Their fingers were once again woven together on the pillow between them. Phil looked at Daniel, awestruck by the beauty that lay both inside and outside this person.

“Why were you crying?” Phil asked lazily.

Daniel shrugged, equally lazily. “Intense orgasm, I guess.”

That didn’t erase the concerned expression from Phil’s face. “You sure?”

Daniel sighed. “No,” he admitted. “But for right now I just want to sleep here with you and enjoy it. This has been the best day I’ve had in years and I don’t want to spoil it with my anxiety.”

Phil frowned. It was always anxiety, that evil beast of a thing, stealing Daniel’s happiness away. And Phil knew what it was that Daniel was so afraid of, too. Powerless to do anything more, Phil wrapped his arms protectively around Daniel, lightly stroking along the scar on his back, and kissed his head.

“I’m not going anywhere, my angel. I’m staying right here with you.”

Daniel cried a short burst of relieved sobs into Phil’s chest. “Thank you,” he mumbled. He breathed, gradually conquering the sobs until his breathing was normalized again and he could truly relax. Once his tears stopped flowing, it wasn’t long before he fell into a calm, restful sleep in Phil’s arms.

Phil wiped the tears from Daniel’s cheeks and smiled at his youthful, almost cherub-like face. Asleep, there was no worry carving lines into his face. There was no frustration furrowing his brow. No work focus flattening his mouth into a line. Asleep, Daniel was his adorably snoring self.

Phil reached back to the bedside table where his phone was and double checked that his alarm was set for the next morning and his battery was charged enough. He set his phone back down, put his arm back over Daniel’s midsection, and closed his eyes.

_ Tomorrow should be interesting, _ he thought.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter titles & lyric quotes are from "do it again" by Ayumi Hamasaki and "IT WAS YOU" by Sheena Ringo & Neko Saito Quartet.
> 
> OH LOOK A SPOTIFY PLAYLIST FOR THE STORY! 
> 
> [The Era of the Wingless Angel](https://open.spotify.com/user/22vrarhq3udteajk2jukew4ga/playlist/0LJY6wdzBozxi6JTQzC6ve?si=-twHp2FTQwaTtrw2Cfhp2w)
> 
> I'm working on a YouTube version as well, which will include some of the songs that are missing (since Spotify doesn't have I think 3 or 4 of the songs I've used for chapter titles). I'll update the playlist as I add to the story, so if you see that one is updated, check the other :D


	26. Break/Interview: The Maelstrom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil wake up the next morning and head over to Shane's for day 2 of the interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Thank you for your patience while waiting for this short but substantial update.  
> tw: brief mention of a minor/original character death in the past. (wasn't originally warned here when I uploaded the chapter, sorry about that!)
> 
>  
> 
> [Chapter link on Tumblr](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/179331618218/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-2650)

_Her name had been Michelle. Daniel was the only person who was allowed to call her Shellie. She had straight dark hair and pale skin, like that of a porcelain doll. It looked like it might shatter if he poked it too hard. So one day, when she was sat under a tree reading, he approached her and asked if he could._

_“Can I touch your face?” he asked._

_She looked up from her book -- something quite advanced for her grade level, clearly, since it was rather thick and appeared to have absolutely no pictures -- and gave Daniel a curious smile._

_“I s’pose,” she said._

_He poked her cheek, marveling at how her real human skin flexed easily inward and then bounced back where it belonged as soon as he removed his finger. He giggled._

_“Are you a pixie?” she asked him._

_“I don’t think so. What’s a pixie?”_

_“They’re in faerie stories. They’re tiny magic people with wings. They play tricks and say things that make no sense.”_

_“Well I haven’t got any wings,” Daniel said. “Mine were removed so I could wear clothes.”_

_Michelle giggled. “You’re funny. I think you are a pixie.”_

_Daniel shrugged. “Maybe.”_

_“My name’s Michelle.”_

_“Can I call you Shellie?”_

_Michelle made a face. “When other people call me Shellie it sounds like they’re making fun. But I like when you say it." She briefly considered his question. "Okay, you can call me Shellie.”_

_“You can call me Danny then, if you want.”_

_“Okay Danny! Let’s be best friends, okay?”_

_“Okay!”_

_And they were. For a long time. Which is what three years feels like when three years is a full third of your life._

_Sometimes Marina wouldn’t come to pick up Daniel from school. She wouldn’t be busy, she would simply forget. Daniel would be left sitting on the edge of the decorative planters outside the school’s front door. He was often the only person left. Nearly always, actually._

_“Daniel!” he heard Shellie’s mother call one day. School had been out for nearly an hour already, and she happened to drive by._

_“Oh! Hello Mrs. Westfield.”_

_“You’re allowed to call me Regina, little one.”_

_Daniel shrugged._

_“Where’s your mum at?”_

_“She was busy. She’ll be here soon.”_

_“Do you need a ride home?”_

_Daniel wasn’t sure how to respond when Mrs. Westfield was making that face. That pitiful “poor child” face. He hated when people made that face at him. But he’d declined a ride from her in the past on more than one occasion, and it suddenly occurred to Dan that perhaps his mother’s behavior wasn’t altogether normal or healthy. He didn’t want to be pitied. His mother wasn’t neglectful. She really was just a hard-working person - who could blame her if his transportation to and from school slipped her mind from time to time? People just didn’t understand her. They didn’t understand his family. They were fine. Perfectly fine._

_But she was so rarely a full hour late. This hadn’t happened in awhile._

_“Okay,” he finally said with a bashful, embarrassed nod._

_He was very thankful for the Westfields. They were the reminder he needed that he wasn’t invisible._

 

***

 

Daniel woke up Friday morning, Phil next to him, sad he couldn’t remember the colour of the interior of Regina and Michelle Westfield’s Nissan. For all the times he was in that car, why couldn’t he remember?

He felt guilty for not really trying to commit it to memory as a child, but he'd have to get past it. He had to forgive himself. He couldn’t have known that one of those late afterschool pickups would be the last time he’d ever see the inside of that car.

One night during school holidays, the Nissan was hit head-on by a lorry driver who’d fallen asleep at the wheel one night and the Westfields - Michelle included - were the ones who never woke up again.

_Was it gray? Beige? Not black. Perhaps blue? No, no, definitely not blue…_

Phil breathed in through his nose and rolled to face Daniel. He blinked.

“Good morning, Daniel,” he said.

Daniel smiled and let his eyes land on Phil. “G’morning.”

Phil scrunched his face. “I need a nickname. Or a pet name. Or whatever.”

“Hm?”

“Well, you’re ‘angel,’ so what am I?”

“Horrible evil demon,” Daniel joked.

Phil giggled and lazily smacked him on the arm. “Mean,” he said.

“I dunno,” Daniel said more seriously. “You’re just… Phil.”

“Hm.”

“You can’t force a nickname or a pet name, though. They just sort of happen.”

“That’s true.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure one out for you eventually. It’ll just hit me. Like a song lyric.”

Phil smiled at that. He breathed in and rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Only about 6:30,” Daniel said. “We have some time.”

“What for?”

Daniel smirked and proceeded to give his response orally. Just not verbally.

 

***

 

They arrived at Shane’s studio on time, luckily, even with Los Angeles traffic and their morning diversion. The smiles on their faces were noticeable to literally everyone who had already arrived, which in actuality was basically everyone.

“Well well,” Hazel teased while Dan poured himself some coffee. “Looks like someone’s had a good morning.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” he said with a smirk. He took a sip and Hazel looked at him in disbelief.

“Did he tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That he e-mailed us his resignation last night.”

“Yes he did,” Dan said, smiling again.

“Ooooh,” Hazel said playfully. “Is that why you guys, y’know… had a good morning?”

“Hm,” Dan pondered. “Actually probably, yes.”

“Wait, so are you guys back together then?” she asked in a loud whisper.

Dan found himself a bit stumped on that one. “First off, we were never officially together, strictly speaking, so we can’t really be ‘back’ together. Secondly…” he sighed. “I’m not really sure yet.”

“Is he being an idiot again?” Hazel asked, her accent making Dan smile. “I will go belligerent Irishwoman on him if I have to, I swear it.”

“No no no,” Dan chuckled. “No need for that. I’m the one being… not an idiot, really, but… yeah, kind of an idiot.”

“What’s the problem? You’ve been wishing for him to quit for years.”

“But that’s what it was. A wish. Not a hope or a want or a demand. Wishes are… y’know. Fanciful bullshit things. I didn’t think it would ever _happen._ It was a safe bet that it wouldn’t. Ever. And now I have to like, actually face the possibility of…” Dan shook his head vaguely, muttering something about “my fucking fear of abandonment.”

“No one says you have to face it yet. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”

“That’s the thing…”

Before Dan could finish, it was time for them to get started. Shane called Dan up to the stage and he headed on over, giving Hazel a quick “we’ll talk later” and nothing more.

 

***

 

“It’s a bit early for the big heavy line of questioning,” Shane said, “So to get us started off I want to do some of those sort of basic interview softball questions we interviewers often do. Think of it like interview b-roll. Random stuff I can edit in when it seems relevant since it doesn’t fit into the continuity of the story, like, chronologically.”

“Alright, go for it,” Dan said.

“So what do you think of the people who compare you to David Bowie?”

“Oh no!” Dan whined, barking out loud, nervous laughter. “You call that softball? Really?” His laughter calmed, but he and Shane continue to be smiling. “Oh god.” He shook his head. “I haven’t heard that one in awhile. I thought I was free of it!”

Shane shared a smile with Dan. “Do you not like the comparison?”

“Not really, honestly,” Dan replied, scrunching up his nose as though waiting for people to attack him for saying so.

Shane let his mouth hang open as though he’d uncovered some juicy scandal.

“Look, I know that makes me sound ungrateful,” Dan explained. “I’m really not. It’s _so_ flattering. But that’s the problem! It’s just that, like… how _rude_ is that to David Bowie? I’m not anywhere near that level! Wearing makeup does not make me as talented as he was. Okay? I mean… really, just…” Dan shook his head, having trouble articulating how inaccurate he felt the comparison was.

“You got it, no more Bowie comparisons!” Shane said with a warm grin. Then, slyly, he added, “What about Sir Elton John?”

“Stop. Stop it. Just stop.” Dan laughed as though being tickled, covering his blushing face with one hand. “That’s such an insult to his piano abilities, to his composing, just… oh god, stop.” He smiled in spite of himself.

“I’d better stop, otherwise people are gonna think I’m flirting with you,” Shane said.

“Yeah, I can think of someone in this room who might get a bit… territorial if you did that!” Dan laughed, taking a sip of his still-unfinished black coffee.

“Oh _can_ you now?” Shane asked, his eyebrows raised. “Interesting…” He tapped on his chin thoughtfully but mostly theatrically. “Perhaps that’s another question for later.”

“Oh shit,” Dan said sarcastically, “Now I’ve got myself in trouble!” He was not at all actually worried. He knew what he wanted to say, and how much. He glanced at Phil, once again standing by the cameras, and gave him a quick wink.

Phil, feeling nervous up until this moment, felt his posture shift to something more steady - chest higher, shoulders lower. Maybe Dan would let him in by the time this interview was over. He let himself hope.

 

***

 

After a few minutes of similar sorts of questions -- what’s your favorite thing about being a singer, who among people you’ve worked with do you respect, what’s the most random thing you’ve had on a rider, et cetera -- Shane had steered the conversation back to the story at hand.

“When we last left the interview, it was after your grandmother’s death.”

“Yes.”

“And you’d had something of a falling out with Phil Lester.”

Dan nodded. “Not a good time for me.”

“And you were saying that you felt alone, so you just like… became a hermit.”

“Yeah. Stayed at home. Didn’t come out. Didn’t open my door. For anyone. And for the most part everyone I worked with just let me be. ‘Cause I mean, they knew me well enough to know I needed time to myself anyway. I’d just been on tour. That stuff always takes so much out of me. After any promo tour or concert tour I always need at least a week to just recharge, you know? No obligations, no interviews, no friends even. Just me and my laptop and my keyboard. But what started as a week became two, and then it was a month. And I was absolutely fucking sloshed out of my mind the entire time. I’d wake up hungover and find all these lyrics and all these melodies tape recorded and barely remember making them, if at all.”

“Did anyone check on you?”

“Yeah. Phil buzzed my door first. Hazel tried a few times. I just wasn’t ready yet, I guess. After about that first month, though, Chris had come back from his holiday and… Seeing him there, I guess… I didn’t feel so abandoned. So I let him in. I still never left my flat, but I let him come in. I was pretty tipsy at the time but I remember him being there. I remember how it felt to see him there. It was like being lost at sea and seeing dry land for the first time in ages. I was just… I was so happy someone gave a shit. Well. I was happy he gave a shit. He was the only one I wanted to see right then.”

“Why Chris?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Like I said, Louise probably would have been wonderful, she’d have known just what to say. I’m just not sure I’d have listened. But Chris was my brother, basically. We had the sort of bond that… you just know the other person will understand because you’ve gone through some of the same things.”

Shane nodded. He noticed Dan starting to cry even though he’d talked about this stuff before, and tilted his head.

“You okay?” Shane whispered.

Dan sniffled and tilted his head up, almost as though he was hoping the tears could be held back if he did. “Yeah,” he said, taking a breath.

“Do you want me to stop filming for a bit? I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was going to be so…”

“No, no, it’s totally fine. If I didn’t want this stuff out there, I wouldn’t be doing this interview.”

“If you’re sure,” Shane said. He kept his tone reassuring. Another one of the reasons people felt like they could be honest with Shane was that he felt safe to talk to. Moments like this when he offered to stop made such a huge difference. Dan had never planned on taking that option, but knowing it would be there with Shane had been a factor in his decision to talk to him of all people.

“The song ‘Reminds Me’ is one I wrote after the first time Chris came over. It’s about exactly what everyone says it’s about.”

“The abuse at Moonlight.”

“Yeah. Him coming over helped me snap out of my depression just long enough to write some material I’m incredibly proud of, and that’s one of those songs. ‘It Was You,’ also. ‘The Maelstrom.’ A few others. Some I’d started when blackout drunk, but only finished and polished up when sober. Anyway, during that short period of lucidity, Phil tried to come over again. I really didn’t want to let him in though so… I didn’t. He told me he wanted to give me something. I said I didn’t care. And I didn’t. I was so mad at him.” Dan looked over at Phil with a pitiful look on his face. “I never did apologize for how I treated him that day. Some of the things I said were so uncalled for.” Totally disregarding the cameras, Shane, everyone else in the room, Dan looked straight at Phil. “I’m so sorry, Phil. I know later on I blamed it on being drunk and depressed but I wasn’t. I was stone cold sober and I was just…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Phil mouthed “It’s okay,” and nodded.

“When I told Phil at the funeral that I wanted him to hurt, I took it upon myself to make that hurting happen.”

“What did you say to him?”

Dan shook his head, refusing to elaborate. “I got personal. I tapped into his insecurities. There are aspects of Phil’s life that he’s quite sensitive about and it’s not my place to mention them so I won’t. But I made reference to those things. I was… needlessly cruel. I said things were his fault that weren’t his fault. I said he was a failure in ways that he could never be a failure. To be completely honest…” Tears were rolling down Dan’s cheeks now. His cheeks reddened from how hard he was holding it all in. “I don’t tend to regret things, but I really regret talking to him the way I did that day.” He breathed in, squeezing his lips together into a straight line, and then leaned forward and covered his face with his hands.

“Can you stop the cameras real quick?” Shane said. The cameras stopped recording.

Phil immediately got onto the stage and put his hands on Daniel’s quivering shoulders.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You okay?”

Daniel uncovered his face and was almost unrecognizable from how hard he was crying. Phil wiped the tears from Daniel’s cheeks only to have them immediately return. They hugged.

“I’m so sorry,” Daniel sobbed. “I’m so so sorry I said those things. I should have known better. Fuck, I _did_ know! I knew how much it would hurt, that was _why_ I said what I said, but you didn't deserve that... I'm such an asshole, Phil, I'm so sorry...” Daniel was crying hysterically, the years-old guilt pouring out of him all at once.

“It’s okay, it's okay, shh,” Phil whispered, stroking Daniel's hair. “I always knew it wasn’t my fault. Okay? I knew you were saying those things to upset me. And yeah, it hurt when you said it, but I bounced back. I promise, it may have hurt when you said that but... I forgave you a long time ago, angel.”

Daniel only cried harder hearing this. It was more than he felt he deserved, but it made him so happy to know he was forgiven.

 

***

 

Dan was calm and his coffee was now replaced by a bottle of water.

“You good?” Shane asked, genuinely concerned. He honestly didn’t want to proceed if Dan was going to have such a hard time with anything else.

But Dan nodded, sure he’d gotten it out of his system. “Yeah. The thing is… I obviously do have things in my past that I don’t like bringing up. They’re not fun to talk about. But the only thing that makes me really just… properly break down like that anymore is uh… is guilt. And I don’t feel guilty about much. Honestly. Like I said, I don’t have many regrets. Not anymore. I feel like I’ve genuinely done my best to right the wrongs I’ve committed. I’ve done all I can to apologize, to get closure with people, to explain myself, all that. But that day… Phil and I started to get distant before I was brave enough to follow through on apologizing, so it just never happened I guess.”

“So… the album you were working on then was full of songs about more dark sorts of feelings. Loss, loneliness, anger. Were there moments of like, light at the end of the tunnel where you wrote anything more optimistic?”

Dan chuckled bitterly. “God, no. The happiest song on that album is ‘Remote Control,’ and it gets that distinction simply because it’s about a frustrated annoyance rather than a big, tragic, dramatic interpersonal problem.”

“What song are you most proud of on _Nihilism_?”

“As far as like… what work I’m most proud of?”

Shane nodded, making a sound to confirm.

“‘Gamble.’” Dan replied. “‘Gamble’ wins hands-down. And I’m very glad I was sober for the arrangement of that one because the demo was just… so angry. And it’s not an angry song. It’s frustrated, yes, but it was sad. I was sad that I couldn’t make things work with Phil and I felt utterly worthless. And when working on the lyrics I channeled the feelings of self-doubt I had as a teenager dealing with my sexuality, wondering if I was broken, because those feelings of worthlessness were very similar. That feeling of ‘if I just turned to ash the world would be better off,’ you know. I felt the same again. So for the album version, I reworked it completely from the demo so it was more sad. It’s quite dramatic, perhaps, with all the strings and horns and everything but nothing else captured it quite right. In retrospect the song sounds victorious in some places, and I wonder if that wasn’t some subconscious part of my sober brain telling me I’d get my shit figured out eventually.”

“That’s a really nice thought actually.”

Dan nodded.

“And have you gotten your shit figured out yet?”

Dan smiled and looked at Phil. “I think I’m getting there.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs mentioned:  
> The Maelstrom - "kachuu no otoko/Man of the Maelstrom/In a Whirlwind" by Sheena Ringo, originally performed by TOKIO.  
> Reminds Me - "reminds me" by Ayumi Hamasaki  
> Remote Control - "REMOTE CONTROLLER" by Sheena Ringo  
> Gamble - "GAMBLE - Live" by Sheena Ringo serves as the demo version in my mind; "GAMBLE" by Sheena Ringo x Neko Saito serves as the album version.
> 
> All of the above have been added to the playlists (if available), which I launched alongside the last update!  
> [Spotify Version](https://open.spotify.com/user/22vrarhq3udteajk2jukew4ga/playlist/0LJY6wdzBozxi6JTQzC6ve?si=DYFVBGA-Q7SGt3lTtu0FHw)  
> [YouTube Version](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLNGF7u_238PUGn-eYj-JLNetqW3cLXtWl)
> 
>  
> 
> [Chapter link on Tumblr](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/179331618218/new-chapter-the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-2650)


	27. First Love Singer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan is in a bad place after the tour. Chris helps. And then Phil helps too.
> 
> (tw: Alcohol & drunkenness, some drunken sexual harrassment for a very brief moment, depression, vague hints at Phil having been abused in the past)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard and I'm still not happy with it but I'm going out of town for a few days so I needed to get it "good enough" now or you were gonna have to wait until like November 5th to get it. :P

Dan spent the second half of 2012 at home by himself. Most of it, anyway. Sometimes he did actually leave home. About a month after he’d come home from the tour, Hazel convinced him to do a photo shoot for NME. He refused to do the interview about the tour that they requested, however, so the article ended up being a career history and commentary. A complete fluff piece. The spread was planned to be a 12 page cover story, however, so they decided the images would be the focus. He brought in clothes from his own closet, mostly designer things he’d purchased for himself more or less on impulse since he could finally afford them. Since he never went anywhere -- especially when he was this depressed -- he only now had the chance to wear them. On some level, Dan hoped that wearing his shiny new clothing would grant a momentary burst of dopamine. No such luck.

Louise did his makeup, of course. But he was quiet.

“You okay, little bug?” she asked him.

Dan didn’t sigh. Didn’t frown, really. Didn’t say anything other than “I’m okay.” He didn’t want to be a bother and weigh poor Louise down with his problems. Louise didn’t know him well enough to know when to push and insist that she’d be there for him if he needed to talk, so she did what she thought was best. She let it lie for the time being. But when the shoot was over, she phoned Chris.

 

***

 

Dan, makeup still applied, was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. A half-empty beer bottle stood on the ground next to him. His knees were raised, his arms crossed over them, his head down in the cavern created by the gap between his torso & legs. The darkness was friendly. No one else was there, no sights, no smells, no sounds. He especially liked the lack of sound.

His left ear had gotten worse. Whenever he heard anything, he could hear the imbalance, and it made him feel like he was constantly leaning to one side. The tour had exacerbated the issues his doctor had warned him about, and he knew it would happen, but he let it happen anyway. And now everything in his life that had gone wrong since the tour ended felt even more tilted, more  _ off _ than it needed to -- and all of it, he kept telling himself, was his own fault.

Dan picked his head up and stared at his phone, sitting an arm’s reach away on the floor.

Somehow he both dreaded hearing the phone ring and desperately  _ needed _ to hear the phone to ring.

Neither happened. Instead, his door buzzed.

He looked at the screen on his intercom, showing what his outside camera saw. Chris.

Chris was there.

Dan almost sobbed. He’d never been so relieved to see anyone. Chris, who he thought probably hated him, was actually here.

He hit the button to buzz Chris into the building and immediately opened his door. Chris, seeing Dan’s door open from down the corridor, took his approach at a light jog, anxious about seeing his old friend and desperately hoping he was okay.

Chris stepped inside and closed the door behind him, fairly certain Dan didn’t have the motivation to shut it himself. He was right. As soon as Chris was inside, Dan started stepping back toward his safe spot against the wall.

“Hey,” Chris said, putting his hand gently on Dan’s shoulder before he was too far away.

Dan looked at Chris. His eyes were red, but his makeup was still flawless. Chris had seen this before when looking into his own mirror. So he wrapped his arms around Daniel.

Daniel, meanwhile, stood there limply, not hugging back. He didn’t feel like there was any reason to. Besides, he figured, doing so would probably put Chris off somehow. But still, despite not getting a hug in return, Chris didn’t let go. And Daniel realized he was thankful for that. He was thankful that anyone understood him the way Chris did, and on top of it, Chris was here. He’d come  _ here. _ Because he cared about him.

Suddenly, Daniel felt the urge to really, properly cry for the first time in ages. So he did.

Chris held onto Daniel tighter while his body shook and makeup-stained tears fell from his eyes and onto Chris’s clothing.

“Everyone hates me,” Daniel said between sobs into Chris’s shoulder.

“No, Daniel. Nobody hates you.”

Daniel finally hugged Chris back. He clung onto him for dear life, his fingers grabbing the back of Chris’s shirt as though they were a rope Daniel needed to climb to get out of the hole he was in. He kept opening his mouth to speak, to tell Chris ‘You’re wrong, everyone does hate me,’ but whenever he tried, the only thing that came out were louder and more powerful sobs.

Eventually, when Daniel had calmed, Chris guided him back to that spot on the floor, against the wall, where he felt safe. He explained that Louise had talked to him after the photo shoot earlier in the day. She’d been concerned about Daniel’s silence and apparent standoffishness. So Chris had promised to check on him. He’d brought a bag of snacks with him, remembering how food was one of the things that cheered Dan up when they were teenagers. Daniel, as expected, had barely eaten a thing all day. Chris was concerned, as always, about Daniel’s relationship with food in general -- he’d never developed a true eating disorder as far as he knew (at least not as he understood them), but the way Daniel used and experienced food, so differently than anyone he knew, always made Chris a bit tense.

That said, the way Daniel  _ enjoyed _ food was also so much different, so much more, than anyone he knew. And he wanted Daniel to be happy so very badly. So he brought a Tesco sack full of bakery bread, oranges (Daniel’s favorite fruit, if he remembered correctly), and ice cream.

Chris sat with Daniel for what felt like ages, eating with him and waiting for him to feel ready to chat. He knew that might not happen this visit, but he was willing to wait and he was willing to come back.

To his surprise, though, Daniel finally spoke.

“How was Germany?” he asked in his still slightly broken voice.

Not sure how much detail to give without making Daniel feel bad somehow, Chris just said “It was good.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Just Berlin this time. Lots to see there, and my mates had all been but I hadn’t.”

Daniel nodded. “Cool. I’m glad you had a good time.”

“You should come next time.”

“Right,” Daniel said with a sarcastic chuckle, “that’ll be  _ so _ easy.”

“You never know. Maybe next time you tour it’ll be a big one that takes you to Berlin, and we can do some sightseeing.”

Daniel shrugged. “Maybe.” The truth was, it meant a lot to him that he had something to look forward to now. He didn’t want to get too attached to the idea, though. Just in case he did somehow lose Chris.

They lapsed back into silence for a bit. Daniel forced himself to eat a bit slower and really enjoy the feeling of the bread slowly disintegrating in his mouth, the taste as the sugars released and the flavor took over. Focusing on it seemed to help keep him grounded in reality. Reality, he realized, was a place in which Chris had come over to check on him. Chris was here, with him, and wasn’t leaving even though Daniel had nothing to offer him in the way of entertainment or even companionship.

“I miss my Nana,” Daniel whispered cautiously.

Chris looked at him sadly and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “She was a really great lady.”

“Why do I keep losing people?”

“We all lose people sometimes. And it fucking sucks.”

Daniel was oddly relieved to hear that. For a moment, he didn’t feel as though he were cursed, and he didn’t feel as though his sadness were a ridiculous thing to feel. He rested his head on Chris’s shoulder, silently expressing his hope that at least he wouldn’t lose  _ him. _

Silence again. The color had seemingly returned to Daniel’s eyes when he finally sat up and looked at Chris again.

“Have you, um…” Daniel gulped, unsure about how appropriate it would be to proceed with this question given the relative gravity of his grandmother’s loss. “Have you talked to Phil at all?”

“Yeah.”

“How is he?”

“He’s good. Keeping busy with… y’know. Life. Work. All that.”

Daniel’s stomach clenched. ‘Life,’ Chris had said. That meant the engagement. Wedding planning. He nodded, and they were silent again for quite awhile.

Daniel focused on his orange instead of Phil. He really liked oranges. They were perhaps an unexciting choice of favorite fruit, but he found their complexity appealing. They were sweet, yes, but tart as well, and the scent made him forget just about everything else. It was bright, but not overpowering. It was comforting, but not heavy like baking smells often were. It was the only scent that felt so cozy while still feeling like a refreshing breath of air. Besides, oranges were so convenient, pre-sliced as they were. Peeling them without getting juice on your hands was a bit tricky at times, but at least your fingers were delicious after.

It was Chris who finally broke the silence while Daniel was finishing his orange. “What’s your favourite song?” he asked.

“What, ever?” Daniel asked in response, his tone slightly flat and tired sounding, but with more inflection than Chris expected.

“Yeah.”

Daniel lifted his eyebrows and exhaled. He’d never really given it much thought. “Wow, I don’t know…”

“Well,” Chris said, adjusting his position so he was sitting a bit more comfortably, “what, to you, makes a song great?”

Daniel hummed and thought. He wasn’t sure what it was about this question, but he felt slightly energized by the need to think about this. Maybe it was just thinking about music that made him feel more real, more present in his own existence. So, he thought of his favorite songs, and the songs he’d written than he was most proud of, and there was a certain movement to all of them that he realized they had in common. “I think…” he started, then paused. “I think a great song is one that makes me feel the way love does.”

Chris’s eyes narrowed curiously. “How do you mean?”

“Okay, so like… you start with an intro that draws you in, right? And then over the next five minutes you learn more about it, sort of in a general sense. Is it in your face, is it more subtle, what’s it about? All those sorts of things. And you come back and you listen again, and you hear something you didn’t notice before. Well now there’s this whole new dimension to it, right? So you  _ desperately _ need to get to know it front to back, inside and out. And pretty soon you start hearing the flaws, like… the singer’s voice cracked here, a drum hit is missing there, some distortion on the bass during the middle eight, you know, whatever. And those flaws just keep you coming back, ‘cause those flaws make the song really  _ real. _ They make it human, they make it beautiful. The imperfections make it perfect. And sure, maybe you listen to other songs, and you even enjoy them, because they’re fun or whatever. But you keep coming back to that first one, because that song… that’s the song that really  _ gets _ you. It feels like it was made just for you.” The look in Daniel’s eyes had become wistful. He looked distant, but wherever he was that wasn’t here, he was happy and at peace there.

Chris smiled. “We’re not talking about music anymore, are we?”

Daniel shyly smiled a tiny smile, embarrassed he could still have such sweet, romantic feelings for someone he felt so betrayed by. “No,” he said, almost sadly. “Not really.”

“You know, you can just say Phil is your favourite song, mate!” Chris said with a glowing grin, trying to be encouraging. The truth was, he encouraged Daniel’s feelings for Phil. Chris -- and he wasn’t alone in this -- didn’t like Phil with Amanda at all. Actually, more to the point, he didn’t like Amanda. But he didn’t want to take sides or use his personal issues with Phil’s fiancée to feed the flames of Daniel’s anger and bitterness, so he didn’t say so just then. “I’m not gonna judge.”

“Ah, but  _ love _ is my favourite song. Phil’s just… he’s the one I can hear performing it right now.” Daniel frowned. He looked like he was on the verge of tears again. “But yeah, his version of it is… definitely my all-time favourite.”

“‘Love is your favourite song.’ Sounds like a lyric to me.”

“Same,” Daniel replied with a slight smile. It was just enough to give Chris complete confidence that Daniel would eventually be okay. “Might use that.”

“Not to kill the optimistic mood here or anything but um… I mean, you oughta know. The media are speculating about where you’ve been.”

Daniel sighed. “Yeah, I guess I figured they might.”

Chris nodded. “It’s funny,” he said, “as kids we were all dreaming of being proper famous someday. Now?” He trailed off with a vague hand gesture. Daniel knew what he meant.

“Yeah,” is all he said in response.

“Do you wanna know what they’re saying,” Chris asked, “or would you rather read it yourself later?”

Daniel gave it a moment’s thought. He really didn’t want to read everything online or in trashy tabloid magazines he came across at the shops because it would be a mix of the ridiculous and the just plain mean, with those tiny nuggets of truth that sometimes made Daniel doubt his own reality. Chris, however, could sum it up without giving Daniel the details that would hurt rather than help.

“What are they saying?” Daniel finally asked.

“There are a few theories. One, you and Anthony ran away together to like, New York or something to get married. Two, you left Anthony and ran away with Phil, which hilariously is closer to the truth, but also makes the least sense since Phil has been seen working plenty. And three, you’re secretly dead and a lab somewhere is in the process of cloning you or making a hologram of you or something.”

Some of this made Daniel chuckle. He shook his head at the stupidity of all of it. Then he realized something and frowned. “Any photos of my house yet?” he asked, not sure he wanted the answer.

“Yeah,” Chris said, his tone regretful. “I guarantee there are already photos of me coming here today. They’ll probably see how long I take to leave and the new theory tomorrow will be that you and I are engaging in a bit of the ol’ ‘how’s yer father’ behind closed doors.”

Daniel laughed the hardest he’d laughed in weeks. “Oh god,” he said. “Ew. Yuck. Gross. No offense mate, but  _ Jesus Christ _ the images in my head now.”

Chris laughed along with him.

 

***

 

Chris stayed for awhile longer, letting Daniel get everything out of his system that he needed to, and for the rest of the day Daniel was productive and creative. 

And that was the pattern of most days. He would write nearly everything he was feeling, trying to put it in some sort of lyrical structure but knowing he’d need to edit later. He wasn’t at his best, and he knew that, but he had too much to express. So he wrote.

 

_ Sometimes love goes wrong  
But it’s still worth it - love is my favourite song _

 

_Got so many memories_  
_That I wish I could forget_  
_But I wonder if it’s better for me to forget..._  
_Everything that I am_  
_I wouldn’t wanna throw away._  
_If I forgot then I wouldn’t be who I am today_.

 

_Why can’t I find somewhere where I truly belong_  
_I’m just so confused_  
_Oh god, I’m so tired…_  
_How long must I keep searching for somebody to love?_  
_Don’t tell me, no, I know the easy answer…_

 

_ If I take this gamble, and I lose,  
what right do I have to keep on living? _

 

_ We can’t see what’ll come tomorrow  
So let me stay wrapped up in your arms _

 

In the quiet of the night, though, Daniel was gone and the alcohol-fueled monster took his place. He jotted down angry, nonsense lyrics that were overly simplistic and came from a place of anger and deep sorrow rather than introspection or even humanity. 

 

_I don’t want to know_  
_You keep saying it_  
_I don’t want to fucking hear it_

 

_I can’t go back to before I met you_  
_I wish I could_  
_Why do I let you hurt me?_  
_Why does my mind always go back to YOU_  
_I’m fucking useless without you_

 

_ I wanna be with you  
Stay with me always always always _

 

Unfortunately, the next morning, Daniel couldn’t even read much of the chicken-scratch he’d left behind. And the pain he felt certainly wasn’t helping. The pain in his head, the pain in his heart & soul, the pain in his hands from the writer’s cramp he’d given himself. Everything hurt, everything ached. Especially when he thought of Phil.

Phil who hated him, no doubt. Phil who he’d hurt. Phil who’d hurt him. Phil who’d never love him back. Not really. Not the way he wanted to be loved.

So when Phil came by, Daniel didn’t answer the door. He stared at Phil’s image in the camera feed on his door intercom and cried. His finger hovered over the button to let him in, but he didn’t press it.

The next time Chris came over, Daniel was completely wasted. As soon as Chris walked in the door, Daniel collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Hey, hey...” Chris said reassuringly. “I’m here. Talk to me, mate. C’mon.”

Chris walked Daniel to the sofa and sat with him. Daniel wiped the tears from his violet-encircled eyes with the back of his weak wrist, his fingers hanging limply. He looked dreadful enough that Chris wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Daniel had got the flu on top of everything else.

But no, Daniel wasn’t ill. Merely drunk and depressed, as though that were any reassurance.

“You’re the only person who cares,” Daniel said quietly, numbly. His voice had the overall volume and flatness of quiet television static.

“That’s not true, Daniel. Louise is worried sick about you.”

“Then why the  _ fuck  _ isn’t she here?!” Daniel yelled, punctuating the profanity by shoving a stack of magazines off the coffee table.

“Daniel, listen to me,” Chris said slowly as the magazines toppled to the floor, sliding off one another into a lazy pile. “She tried phoning you. You didn’t answer. She sent me here to check on you again.”

Daniel breathed, looking like he was ready to fall asleep but like the very concept of doing so angered him. “So then you don’t give a shit either,” he mumbled. “You’re only here as a favor.”

“Hey,” Chris said softly. “Look at me.”

He did.

“I promise I care.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

Unable to stop himself in the face of his desperate loneliness, Daniel began to slide his hand over Chris’ upper leg. “How much do you care,  _ senpai _ ?” he said in a low voice, attempting to be seductive, while his fingers slowly inched towards Chris’ crotch.

“Whoa!” Chris said, hopping up off the sofa and away from Daniel’s wandering hands. “Mate, you need to stop. This isn’t you and you know that.”

“What?” Daniel said, gazing up at Chris with half-lidded eyes. “You wouldn’t fuck me?” He giggled deliriously. “‘Sokay, he wouldn’t either.”

“Jesus Christ, Daniel, how much have you had to drink?”

“I dunno. Lot. So much. No rum yet though. Rum is so good, Chris. You should have some rum with me.”

“Absolutely not. Answer me. How much have you had?”

Daniel shrugged.

Chris took a quick survey of the room and found enough beer bottles sitting around that he hoped they were from the last two or three days instead of just today. It scared him to ask.

“Daniel… when was the last time Val came to clean your flat?”

“Mmmm…” Daniel closed one eye while he thought. “The twenty-second.”

It was the twenty-third.

“Fuck,” Chris muttered. He had no idea what to do. He’d never seen anyone as terrifyingly inebriated as Daniel was tonight. “I’m gonna get you some water, okay?”

“Mmkay,” Daniel said, looking at Chris flirtatiously again.

Chris made a face and headed to the kitchen to get Daniel a glass of water.

More water followed, and Daniel ended up vomiting a considerable amount of the contents of his stomach. After a few hours, he was sober enough to be mildly catatonic as opposed to recklessly flirtatious and theatrically sad. 

Chris watched over Daniel until he noticed his eyelids getting heavier, at which point he escorted him to his bedroom and tucked him into bed. He got more water and some paracetamol and placed them on Daniel’s bedside table in case he didn’t remember to before he left. Whenever that would be. He wasn’t comfortable leaving Daniel in this state.

“Chris?” Daniel asked sleepily.

“Yeah?” Chris replied, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Daniel.

“Why are you being so good to me?”

Chris’s brow furrowed. “Why are you surprised?”

“Because I… I don’t deserve you.”

“It’s not about deserving. It’s about you needing someone and me seeing that. I’m not some superhero or anything, I’m just your friend.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I deserve friends.”

“Well I don’t wonder,” Chris said, taking Daniel’s hand and running his thumb across his knuckles. “You’re not like… some terrible person. And I wish I knew what was making you think you are. You’re creative, and smart, and you’re really quite kind. You want what’s best for everyone on the Dan Howell team. You definitely want what’s best for your fans.”

“I’m not there for people like I should be,” Daniel said.

“Maybe sometimes you can’t do as much for people as you’d like, but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. It just means you’re not able right then, or you don’t know that you’re meant to be there. That’s okay. We’re all just figuring out life as we go, anyhow. Don’t hold yourself up to some impossible standard. You’ll just disappoint yourself. And that’s stupid because you’re sure not disappointing the rest of us.”

Daniel sniffled. “If I’m not a bad person then why doesn’t Phil love me?”

“Daniel…” Chris crouched down on the floor so he could look Daniel in the eye, down at his level, still holding his hand. “Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he’s a fucking mess right now.”

Daniel couldn’t help the sickening twinge of satisfaction he got hearing that, but he felt like an asshole for feeling that way so he stopped any expression of it.

“When he’s around Amanda, he’s clearly distracted. When he’s not around her, he asks everyone else if we’ve talked to you. He’s always wondering how you’re doing. Honestly, even if he hadn’t told me and PJ--” Chris stopped short, sighing a bit.

“Told you what?”

“He told us he loved you. Years ago, now, but… A blind man could see he still does.”

“When… when was the last time you saw him?”

“Two days ago. He tried to phone you a few times while we were at the office. He uh… he tries to phone you an awful lot.”

“He does?”

“Yeah. Do you never look at your phone?”

“Not for… fuck. I don’t know. Days. Maybe weeks, I have no idea. I don’t even think it’s charged, if I’m honest.”

“Here,” Chris said, patting Daniel’s hand and standing up. “I’ll be right back, just gonna pop out to the lounge and get your phone, yeah?”

Daniel nodded slightly nervously.

Chris did return, however, with Daniel’s iPhone in hand. “Where’s your charger?”

Daniel pointed at the loose cable resting on the floor between his bed and bedside table. Chris plugged the phone in and set it down next to the water and painkillers.

“There we are. Now, can you do me a favour?”

Daniel shrugged. “I dunno. Depends what.”

“Call your mum tomorrow, first thing. I haven’t heard from her at all, but I’m going to bet she’s gone mental with worry. Then, I want you to call Phil.”

Daniel groaned.

“Daniel, you need to call Phil. He really does care about you, I promise.”

“How can you possibly promise that?”

“He told me what happened. Why you split with Anthony. And how he didn’t hold up his end.”

“Fucking… why.”

“Because he needed to get it off his chest. He knew he fucked up--”

“He knows, but he’s still going through with marrying her.”

Chris hesitated. “Y--yeah… yeah, he is.”

“Then he can go fuck himself. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“I’m not gonna say he didn’t fuck up. But he at least deserves to know you’re okay.”

“Then you fucking tell him. I do not want to talk to Phil Lester right now. Maybe not ever. I haven’t decided yet.”

Chris nodded. He disagreed with Daniel’s decision not to speak to Phil, but had to acknowledge that Daniel was well within his rights here. He decided not to fight with him about this any more, and figured he’d text Phil after Daniel was asleep to let him know he was… maybe not  _ okay, _ but alive at least.

“I think I’m gonna stop after this album.”

“Stop? What, like, retire?”

Dan shrugged.

Chris frowned. Dan retiring would upset a lot of people, but at the same time, maybe it was what Dan needed to do.

 

***

 

Dan went into the studio during a narrow window of lucid days when he wasn’t completely loaded up with alcohol. He still took a shot before going into the studio -- if anyone caught him, he said he was just using it to loosen up his voice and be less tense about singing. No one said a thing.

Phil was in the studio for part of that time, but occasionally a lyric that reminded him of his own mistakes and shortcomings would send him away, unable to listen any longer.

After Dan’s preliminary studio work on the new album was done, Phil went to Dan’s flat to confront him about some of the content of the album. Or maybe he wanted to apologize. He wasn’t sure. But he had to speak to Dan. He felt a desperate need to face what he’d done, where they stood, and how Dan was really doing right now.

He hit the buzzer for Dan’s flat.

“What?” Dan spat.

“Please, can I talk to you? Just for a few minutes.”

“Fuck you.”

“Dan, I wanted to apologize.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t fix it, can you? So what fucking good is an apology?”

“Please, Dan.”

“You listen to me, Lester. I fucking loved you. And now I can’t imagine hating anyone as much as I hate you. Calling you a coward doesn’t cover it. You’re fucking spineless. You’re a  _ deserter _ who left me to fucking die. And I can’t stand the sight of you right now.”

“Just let me come in and apologize properly, please!”

In response to Phil’s pleading, Dan said something absolutely cruel. Something that, given his own life experiences, he knew better than to ever say to anyone. Phil felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. He froze up entirely, unable to respond verbally. Instead he just nodded, wiped tears from his eyes, and turned away from the buzzer.

He just walked away, leaving Dan to reel in his own guilt and lack of closure for years afterward.

 

***

 

Christmas 2012.

Phil rang Dan’s buzzer.

“What?” Dan said. More gently this time. Still clearly angry, but less so.

“I brought you something. It’s um.. It’s a bit expensive, otherwise I’d leave it out here for you. Might be just… y’know. A bit dangerous to do that. Don’t want it to get stolen.”

Dan reluctantly buzzed Phil in.

“Hey,” Dan said quietly when he opened his front door.

“Hey,” Phil replied. He set down a long, narrow, awkwardly large box wrapped in red and white paper. “Here’s the first part of it.” 

“The first part?” Dan said, squinting a bit.

“Yeah. Give me two minutes, I have to get the other part out of my car. Don’t open that one yet!”

Phil jogged off to his car and got another box out of it. This one was probably about the same volume, but more tall & wide as opposed to long & skinny. It was wrapped in the same paper. When he got back to Dan’s door, he’d pulled the first gift inside.

“I figure…” Phil said, bringing the second box inside, “you’ve probably been working on music all this time, yeah? I thought maybe you’d, y’know… need some better tools seeing as how you’re a professional and all.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed curiously, and he opened the first box.

It was an 88-key MIDI interface keyboard. The white body of it was surprisingly beautiful, and it was quite heavy.

“Weighted keys,” Phil said. “It’s intended as a proper piano replacement, actually. Should be good for touring. I know you said you eventually wanted to get a keyboard that felt more like a piano, and… all the reviews said this was the one to go with.”

Dan was stunned. Absolutely frozen. He was torn. He absolutely loved that this gift was so thoughtfully chosen with Dan’s specific desires in mind, but a very large part of him was certain that Phil was buying his affection back with expensive work-related gifts. Still, he tore the paper off the second box.  It was a new iMac.

“Jesus Christ, Phil,” Dan mumbled.

“I wasn’t sure what software you wanted,” Phil said, “so I just pre-installed everything. GarageBand is there, obviously, and that might be what you dabble in first, but um… I put Logic, Ableton Live, Reason, Pro Tools, and Cubase on there. So, y’know. You can just pick whatever you like best.”

Dan blinked and looked at Phil. “I…” he gulped. “Why would you…? I mean, this is… this is too much, Phil.”

“It’s what you deserve and it’s what you need. And… more to the point, it’s… what I thought would make you happy to have.”

“Happy…” Dan said quietly, looking at his gifts. “Hm.”

“I’m sorry, Dan. You… you don’t have to ever forgive me, to be honest. That’s… that’s not what this is. I promise, it’s not. But… I did fail you in one massive way and… I guess I just wanted to make sure I didn’t fail you anywhere else.”

Dan nodded, fighting tears. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, not knowing what else to say.

Phil nodded back and started to turn away. “I’ll leave you be, then.”

“Wait,” Dan said suddenly. He didn’t actually have anything to say. He just didn’t want Phil to go.

And Phil did indeed pause and wait to see what Dan needed. So Dan hurried to come up with something. “Um… help me set this up?”

Phil smiled. “Of course.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the lyrics in this chapter are from songs mentioned in the previous chapter, others are new:  
> "IT WAS YOU" by Sheena Ringo  
> "reminds me" by Ayumi Hamasaki  
> "GAMBLE" by Sheena Ringo  
> "kachuu no otoko/In a Whirlwind/Man of the Maelstrom" by Sheena Ringo  
> "Because of You" by Ayumi Hamasaki  
> "GIBUSU/Gips/Cast" by Sheena Ringo
> 
> Chapter title is from "Hatsukoi Shojo (Firstlove Singer)" by Sheena Ringo.
> 
> All songs are currently on the story playlist!  
> [Spotify Version](https://open.spotify.com/user/22vrarhq3udteajk2jukew4ga/playlist/0LJY6wdzBozxi6JTQzC6ve?si=DYFVBGA-Q7SGt3lTtu0FHw)  
> [YouTube Version](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLNGF7u_238PUGn-eYj-JLNetqW3cLXtWl)


	28. Courtesan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil stays at Dan's after dropping off his gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (***SKIP THE NOTES IF YOU'RE OK WITH EVERYTHING IN THE TAGS AND DON'T WANT SPOILERS***)
> 
> TW: smut, drunken sex and bad decisions, faulty alcohol logic, and obviously cheating cuz yeah phil's a big fat cheater and dan is letting it happen.  
> The foreplay begins after Phil has his shot; the sex begins AFTER the foreplay/decision-to-do-it scene (marked off by the three-asterisk divider).  
> The sex ends when the italicized lyrics do, so you can read the conversation they have afterward.
> 
> That said I'm like, SUPER proud of some of the symbolism in this chapter. It felt like an old school chapter in so many ways. <3

It was oddly quiet between them as they plugged in Dan’s new computer and keyboard. The only words spoken were those necessary for the setup process - “can you hand me that”s and “how’s it look”s. Dan took sip after sip of the beer he’d gotten himself from the refrigerator, and Phil wanted to tell him to stop, but he didn’t, too afraid of making Dan angry or unhappy with him.

Phil had unfortunately neglected to purchase a couple of very necessary peripherals, but Dan luckily had a mouse and keyboard already; ones he’d gotten for his Macbook but never used. Phil did, however, set up an iCloud account specifically for the iMac so all the software could be installed. This had meant creating a Lester Music e-mail address for Dan. In order to keep people from simply typing in Dan’s name and guessing this e-mail address accurately, Phil decided to go with a pseudonym: wingless.angel@lestermusic.co.uk. Dan smiled when he saw it. Not only because it was sweet and meaningful for them personally, but also because it amused him that Phil, being Phil, would of course choose a pseudonym that the public could probably guess if they thought about it enough. At this point, Dan’s scars had been visible in more than one photo and he’d briefly answered questions about them from time to time. Nothing too detailed, however he had mentioned that certain (unspecified) family members would call him a wingless angel.

Once the iMac was all set up at Dan’s desk, there was nothing technically keeping Phil there.

“So…” Phil said, grabbing his jacket and fidgeting without actually putting it on. “I suppose I should get going.”

Dan fidgeted right back, trying to think of a new reason for Phil to stay. He couldn’t think of a good, functional one. “Don’t,” was all he could say.

Phil’s eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “After what you said to me when I tried to come by… you know, that one time, I um... I figured you probably hated me.”

“I figured you hated me too,” Dan said. “And I’d have deserved it. But... I think we both know that… we don’t hate each other.”

Phil nodded. “Quite the opposite, I’d imagine.”

“Yeah.”

“I am…” Phil shook his head, wondering why the English language didn’t have more words. “I’m so sorry, Dan.”

Dan shrugged. It wasn’t that Phil’s apparent betrayal no longer bothered him, or that he thought they were even now that Dan had been so thoroughly nasty with what he’d said to Phil. It was just that he still wasn’t feeling much of anything. Otherwise he’d have probably been holding back tears the entire time they were setting up the computer, if not openly weeping.

Their eyes locked.

Phil was somehow more beautiful than Dan remembered. He wanted to believe it was because of the kind gift he’d given -- a reminder of Phil’s talent for finding thoughtful gifts. But Dan knew the real reason. Phil was now inaccessible. He was a treasure that shone all the more brightly for his unattainability.

To say they shared an awkward silence wouldn’t accurately describe the mood of the moment. In fact, it would give the moment far more emotional gravity than was warranted. They certainly weren’t sharing any awkwardness; they were barely even sharing the silence given the speed of the distracted thoughts racing through both their minds. They were merely sharing space. They were sharing static. Standing, waiting for the other to say or do something.

Phil then did something so wholly unexpected, so utterly  _ incorrect, _ that Dan was momentarily certain it hadn’t been Phil who came over at all, but some other person wearing Phil’s face.

He dropped his jacket on the floor, walked straight up to Dan, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

Dan’s eyes shot open as his entire body was rudely jolted to life. The surprise, excitement, and anger that Dan felt was so overwhelming it was almost more like a bright flash of light than a group of feelings. Unable to comprehend what was happening, he pushed Phil off him.

“Phil, what the hell!?” he exclaimed, surprising himself with his sudden ability to enunciate clearly.

Phil, himself, was dazed by what he had just done. “I um… I don’t kn--”

“You’re engaged!!”

“I-- I know, I just…”

“What were you thinking!? You can’t just do that, Phil!” Dan’s glare shot daggers at Phil. “I know it’s hard for you to remember the needs and feelings of people who aren’t in your immediate vicinity or whatever, but you  _ do _ have a fiancée, remember?”

Phil nodded guiltily, unable to look Dan in the eye.

“For Christ’s sake, Phil, stop being so fucking pathetic and look at me.”

Phil did.

“Sit.” Dan pointed at the sofa, and Phil reported to it dutifully, like a child being reprimanded by a parent. Dan sat next to him, turning his body slightly to face him and draping his arm over the back of the sofa. He was suddenly very awake and aware thanks to the adrenaline Phil’s kiss had so swiftly injected into him, but he was also still the same usual level of tipsy he’d been at the studio. It was just enough to make him engaged with reality while still unable to hold back everything he was thinking and feeling. His inhibitions were down, his awareness up.

“Listen,” Dan began, his tone measured due to the difficulty of speaking clearly but the absolute necessity of doing so. “Truth is, I could give a shit about Amanda. I don’t know her personally and as far as I’m concerned she’s the bitch who stole you away from me, so honestly she is not who I’m concerned with here. You, though? You, I  _ know, _ are a better person than this. And I know because we  _ fucking talked about it.” _

“I remember.”

“Between the two of us, there’s only room for one monster and I don’t want you to be that person. I’m already hated enough, I can be the bad guy. It doesn’t matter. I’m the one who pushes people away, not you. I’m the one who’s cursed. I’m the one who ends perfectly good relationships for no reason. That’s not you, Phil.” Dan shook his head. He felt himself start to cry, but refused to give his eyes the satisfaction. “Why?  _ Why _ would you kiss me?”

Phil had so much he wanted to say to Dan. That he wasn’t a monster, that he ended his relationship with Anthony because Phil had promised something he was too afraid to deliver. He was the monster, not Dan, and he was fine taking that role if it meant the two of them could live inside a stupid love bubble for one goddamn night. 

He didn’t even know where to start on any of that, though. So he just answered the question directly.

“You said it before,” he replied. “I’m not any good at thinking of others if they aren’t right in front of me.”

“No, you’re not any good at thinking of others  _ at all. _ Don’t know if you recall, but you didn’t exactly ask me if you could do that. You just assumed I wanted it.”

Phil nodded. “Yeah, I did,” he admitted.

Dan looked down and picked at the skin around his thumbnail. His vision was getting hazy again. “The… correctness of your assumption aside,” he muttered, “that wasn’t the right thing to do.”

Phil looked at Dan with slightly narrowed eyes. “I assumed correctly?”

“You assumed I wanted to kiss you, and I  _ did _ do. But if you had asked permission to actually do it, I would have said no. Because just wanting something doesn’t make it okay.”

Dan exhaled. He could feel the adrenaline and anger wearing off. The alcohol in his bloodstream was starting to win. If Phil stayed too much longer, Dan would soon be the one doing something stupid.

“You have to go,” he said quietly but pointedly.

“I didn’t mean to--”

“Please don’t, Phil, please… Just leave.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask first,” Phil said, standing up slowly, stalling a bit in the hopes that Dan would change his mind. “And I’m sorry I didn’t apologize sooner, I--”

“If you don’t leave  _ right now, _ I swear to God, Phil, I… Fuck, I need another drink.”

Dan stood up from the sofa and headed to the kitchen. He poured a small shot of vodka and downed it quickly, Phil watching from near the front door all the while.

“Dan, are you sure you should be--”

“Why the hell are you still here!?” Dan yelled. He poured himself another shot. He drank again.

Phil marched to the kitchen and grabbed Dan by the shoulders. “Stop drinking!”

Dan tore himself out of Phil’s grasp only to get right into his face, his alcohol breath stinging Phil’s eyes. “Don’t pretend you give a fuck,” he said. He headed out to the lounge, vodka bottle in one hand and shot glass in the other, and turned on the television.

Defiantly, Phil planted himself on the sofa next to him. He couldn’t stop Dan from drinking, but leaving Dan alone in this state was definitely dangerous.

The tiny sober part of Dan’s brain was suddenly scared to death. Drunk Dan was not going to be able to push Phil away twice, he knew that much. It took everything Dan had to let the anger quell the excitement over the kiss a few minutes ago. When this vodka kicked in, Dan knew he would be completely fucked.

“Phil,” Dan said grumpily. “I told you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving you alone like this,” Phil said sadly, concern draped over every word. “I mean… your hair’s getting long. What if you throw up and it gets messy?”

“That’s what you’re worried about? My hair?”

Phil shrugged. “I tried to stop you from drinking. If I can’t do that, then the least I can do is keep your hair out of your face.”

Dan poured another shot and handed it to Phil. “As long as you’re here, then.”

Phil took the shot glass and hesitantly brought it up near his lips, but didn’t drink immediately.

“I don’t have cooties, Phil. Just fucking drink.”

Not that cooties were his concern, but Phil finally thought  _ fuck it _ and downed the shot.

 

***

 

“Fuck, Phil…” Dan moaned. His breath still smelled like vodka, but now Phil’s did too so it didn’t matter anymore.

Amanda didn’t matter anymore, either. Or Dan’s career. Or his own. Or the world outside this flat. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered at all except this feeling -- of Phil’s mouth on Dan’s nipple, of Dan’s nails digging into Phil’s shoulder.

Phil kissed back up Dan’s chest, to his collarbone, then to Dan’s neck. He paused there to whisper in Dan’s ear.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said.

“No,” Dan whined, shaking his head. “We agreed, no actual sex. You’re engaged.”

“I’m engaged to a  _ woman _ though,” Phil whined right back. “And before you suggest it, she’s not into pegging, I asked.”

Dan couldn’t help but laugh. “You actually asked?”

“Yeah, she did not take the question well,” Phil said, laughing a bit in response. “Please, though?” Phil looked at Dan with a disgruntled pout. “I mean, I’m not  _ technically _ married yet… And it’s not like there could possibly be a surprise baby or anything if you and I fuck.”

The now infinitesimally tiny segment of Dan’s brain that still remained sober was probably red in the face with how hard it was trying to scream “no.” But it was completely drowned out by the drunk part. The drunk part thought that Phil’s logic was making an awful lot of sense. Amanda never had to know about this. And if she didn’t know, how could her feelings be hurt by it? Besides, Phil wanted something Amanda could never give him. It was only fair for Phil to have this one last opportunity to have a dick in his ass before the forced anal chastity belt known as ‘heterosexual marriage’ was locked in place for the rest of his life.

What harm could it  _ really _ do if Amanda never found out anyway?

Dan rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Phil cheered, kissing Dan’s neck. “I love you.”

“Don’t say that,” Dan said, pushing Phil off him so he could get lube and a condom from the bathroom.

 

***

 

“Ready?” Dan asked. He was looking down at Phil, who was laying on Dan’s bed, trying to relax.

“I’m nervous,” Phil replied.

“We don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Dan nodded.

Phil took a breath. “Okay,” he said. “Go for it.”

Dan pushed into him just a tiny bit. “Good?”

Phil closed his eyes for a second and nodded.

Dan pushed a bit more.

Phil gasped, his eyes rolling back slightly.

“You okay?” Dan asked.

“Give me a second,” Phil said, closing his eyes again. “Don’t move.”

“‘Kay,” Dan said, and nodded even though Phil couldn’t see it. He felt Phil relax around him a little. It felt incredible, being inside him even just this tiny amount.

“Okay,” Phil said. “Go ahead.”

Dan pushed in a bit further, searching Phil’s face for any sign of distress. But Phil was now looking completely relaxed, and staring into Dan’s eyes.

“Keep going,” Phil said.

Dan pushed in until he could go no further, and Phil moaned. He pulled back a little and then thrust into Phil again. And again. 

 

_ I know I don’t quite measure up against you _  
_ The whole context in which we met was innocent. _  
_ Your charming ways deserve the blame for our time  
_ _ It wasn’t me who led; your words spoke confidence._

 

He lowered his body onto Phil’s and let his weight rest on his elbows on either side of Phil’s head. Phil wrapped his arms around Dan’s torso, pressing his fingertips into Dan’s back.

“How are you so beautiful even when I’m angry at you,” Dan asked rhetorically, and kissed Phil passionately as he rocked his hips back and forth. Phil’s hips moved in time with Dan’s, slow and rhythmic and steady. Phil could taste so much alcohol in his own mouth that he barely noticed the flavor of it in Dan’s. He could taste it in his mind, too. The alcohol was everywhere, permeating everything from the air to their hearts.

 

_ I adore the way your face breaks out into a smile _  
_ Like a flower in spring that blooms to life so radiant _  
_ I can’t forget your lush sweet lips that kiss me _  
_ How many are the men charmed by your elegance?_

 

Phil’s eyes were drawn to Dan’s as though by magnetism. Those eyes felt like home in a way Amanda’s didn’t, and never could. He didn’t want to feel that way, but he did. He hated loving Dan. Everything he’d ever known about love, everything he’d learned from childhood to adulthood, told him that the way he felt right now --  _ hating _ loving someone -- shouldn’t be possible. Love, he’d learned, was always this beautiful virtuous thing. Love was the most righteous thing in the universe. It was what brought people together. It was the greatest cause, the greatest force of good, and the greatest joy. And indeed, the love he felt for Dan always felt good, righteous, and joyful. But it also felt so tragic. According to the rules of the outside world, the world outside their bubble, it was an evil monstrous thing. How, Phil wondered, could something so amazing and beautiful be wrong?

 

_ We’ve tied ourselves up together, but the knot is loose _

 

“Harder,” Phil whispered.

Dan nodded, pushed up onto his hands to get more leverage, and did as Phil requested, shoving his hips into Phil’s as hard as he could. 

 

_ So smile, come put your lips right next to mine_  
_ Moonlight showers down on you like flower blossoms_  
_ Come on right now, lay down with me and sing lullabies  
_ _ Somehow let me live this dream with you endlessly_

 

Phil keened, his head rocking backward, his back arching up. Dan leaned on one hand and used the other to stroke Phil’s chest.

“Fuck,” Dan moaned. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

 

_ Whom have you worked this magic on before?_  
_ Let it be only me forever, since I want it more  
_ _ Give it only to me please..._

 

He wrapped that hand around Phil’s hardened cock and pumped it as quickly as he could. A tear rolled out from the corner of Phil’s eye as his orgasm built. Dan watched Phil’s face twist and tense with pleasure until finally, Phil’s mouth opened and his whole body tensed. He was silent until he wasn’t.

“Oh god, Dan, fuck!” he cried.

Dan retracted his messy hand, not even worrying about wiping it off. He restored it to its place on the bed and used it to even out his weight above Phil. He just kept fucking, desperate for release now that Phil had gotten his.

“Yeah,” Dan moaned between his last few thrusts. “Fuck… yes… Phil…”

Dan shoved his hip hard into Phil one last time, holding it there until he came inside the man he loved more than any other.

 

__ When did you make a hole inside of me?  
_ Trapped in this room, suffocating in your niceties  
_ _ I’m losing my mind to more fits of jealousy_

 

Phil told himself that the tears he was shedding were because the orgasm was so overwhelming. It was just really good sex, that’s all.

Dan told himself the exact same thing about his own tears. He couldn’t keep up the charade for long though.

 

_ Now cry, come put your lips right next to mine  
_ _ High tide, I’m swimming in a sea of your tears _

 

They looked at each other.

“I love you,” Dan whispered.

“I love you too,” Phil said, his voice broken, as he put a hand up to hold Dan’s cheek.

Dan lowered himself and kissed Phil heatedly, desperately, trying not to let Phil see his tears. Because Dan knew now that he was really crying. This, he now understood, had been goodbye sex. It was the last time they’d probably ever sleep together.

 

_ Come on right now, no need to treat me nice anymore  
_ _ Somehow I want to hide myself somewhere away from you _

 

Dan pulled away from the kiss and sniffled.

“I need to clean myself up,” he muttered, trying not to look at Phil. He walked over to his ensuite bathroom and tossed Phil a small towel. “Here,” he said dismissively, leaving Phil to it and closing the bathroom door.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair (which had indeed gotten a bit unruly from neglect) was disheveled, his cheeks were still pink, no makeup was on his face. His eyes looked mostly dead save for the sorrow buried inside them.

He washed his hands and cleaned Phil’s cum off his stomach. He’d gotten a bit soft there from all the drinking he’d been doing. He frowned.

It wasn’t fair. Phil was beautiful enough to find someone else. Who else could Dan possibly have if not Phil?

He cried, trying to stay silent. He avoided looking at his face in the mirror as he did, knowing the sight would be beastly. Despite his best efforts to be quiet, a short, high-pitched sob managed to escape, followed by a loud sniffle.

“Dan?” he heard Phil’s muffled voice. He couldn’t respond, though, lest Phil hear more obvious evidence of crying.

Eventually, Dan got the crying out of his system and he left the bathroom, naked and cold. Phil was still sitting in bed, cleaned up, covered with the flat sheet. He pulled his attention away from the e-mails he was checking on his phone and instead looked up at Dan, concern and care in his eyes.

“Hey,” he said sweetly.

“Hey.”

Phil patted the bed beside him.

“Actually,” Dan said, “you should probably go.”

“If you want me to, I will.”

“That’s the problem,” Dan exhaled. “I don’t want you to go. At all. Ever. But the fact is... you should.”

“I’m not getting married for another six weeks, Dan. Until then… until then I’m yours.”

Dan shook his head. “Don’t say how long it is. Makes it real. I can’t… I can’t cope with that.”

Phil nodded. “Either way,” he continued, “You need me more than she does right now. And I think you know that.”

“I don’t know that. I don’t know anything about her. If she loves you as much as I do, then…”

“But she doesn’t,” Phil said quietly, almost a whisper, as though he didn’t want to acknowledge this truth. He threw the sheet off himself. It was getting uncomfortable underneath it, and it wasn’t as though Dan was going to judge his naked body or anything.

“What?” Dan, still feeling cold himself, grabbed his bathrobe from the hook on the bathroom door and draped it over himself.

“I just feel like Amanda doesn’t… I’m just convenient for her. I’m the least objectionable option. I’m… her friend who she’s not opposed to marrying. I don’t feel any sort of passion from her. Not like I get from you.”

Dan looked down. He hated himself for saying what he was about to say, but he was too tipsy to stop himself and a big part of him had lately begun to believe it. “Maybe that’s just what real love is like. Maybe what you and I have is just, like... hormonal preteen bullshit. It’s still there just because there’s drama to feed it. You know? It’s not sustainable. But you and Amanda, y’know… maybe that’s the more mature pairing if it’s, y’know, not ‘passionate’ or whatever.”

“I don’t want that to be true,” Phil said. “Sure, I want a steadier sort of relationship, I mean who doesn’t? But why can’t the steadiness be, I dunno… actually happy?”

“And I suppose with me you’re ‘happy,’” Dan chuckled. It was a ridiculous thought. All the drama between them, all the doubt and the leading on and the other relationships and the fights. Of course Phil wasn’t happy with Dan.

“Yes,” Phil answered without hesitation. “Yes, Dan, I’m happy with you.”

Dan froze. “You can’t mean that,” he said flatly.

“I do, though. We have the best conversations. You make me think about things, see things differently. I’ve seen so much of the world through your eyes and it’s made me see beauty in places I never would have thought of. Including myself. You make me feel valuable, and I hope I’ve been able to do the same for you whenever and however I can. And I know that tonight… I mean, I’ve felt it too. What’s happening here. You’re thinking this is our last night together, right? You’re letting me go.”

Dan nodded, his lips tightened together.

Phil shook his head. “I’m not letting you go.”

Dan scrunched up his face in confusion. “What?”

“Call me crazy… or maybe just drunk, if I’m being honest... but… How many marriages end in divorce? Especially when the couple is as young as she and I are. The likelihood that me and Amanda will work out for literally  _ the rest of our lives _ is pretty fucking small.”

“Then why bother?”

“Because… she’s a decent match for me and it’s worth a try, I guess? Because I guess I wanted to try marriage for myself once? For science, maybe. I don’t know.”

“What the fuck, Phil.”

Phil chuckled. “It’s a valid question. Sometimes I think that maybe it’s just that… I can’t marry you. On some level I think  _ that’s _ why I’m marrying her. Because I can’t marry you.” Phil paused, his eyes reddening. “It’s like I grew up on romantic comedy movies and Disney films and I’ve got this stupid idea in my head that… that’s what’s supposed to happen.”

Dan’s emotions fluctuated between pity and anger, but ultimately landed on sadness. He’d grown up with the same belief and the same desire. They both wanted to get married someday, and as things were, they couldn’t give that to one another.

“Yeah,” Dan finally said with a sigh. “I get that.”

“But… Dan?”

“Hm?”

“Even if you can’t be my husband… I want you to know beyond any and all doubt that you  _ are _ the love of my life. And no, I don’t want to let you go.”

Dan felt like he was supposed to burst into happy tears and wrap his arms around Phil right then, but his face was back to the stony, neutral expression it had worn most of the day. This was wrong, what Phil was saying. This wasn’t how things were supposed to work. But Phil was the love of his life too, and he’d be damned if he was going to give him up entirely.

Hoping to bring life back to Dan’s blank countenance, Phil leaned forward and kissed Dan lovingly. Dan’s expression broke into a small but calm smile. He took the bathrobe off, letting it fall to the floor, and he lay on the bed next to Phil. The sheet was still in a tangled mess by their feet.

“I do need to let you go, Phil,” he said. “But… not yet. Not tonight. It’s Christmas, for fuck’s sake.” Dan snuggled up against Phil and closed his eyes. “You’re the only thing I want.”

Calmly but with a sense of dread hanging above him, Phil pushed Dan’s hair off his forehead and kissed the exposed skin there.

He wished he’d never gotten engaged.

He felt sick.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO CAUGHT THE CALL BACK TO THE FIRST TIME THEY HAD SEX? :D
> 
> Chapter title & italic lyrics are from "Oiran (Courtesan)" by Sheena Ringo x Neko Saito. The song has been added to the playlist already!
> 
> [Spotify Version](https://open.spotify.com/user/22vrarhq3udteajk2jukew4ga/playlist/0LJY6wdzBozxi6JTQzC6ve?si=DYFVBGA-Q7SGt3lTtu0FHw)  
> [YouTube Version](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLNGF7u_238PUGn-eYj-JLNetqW3cLXtWl)
> 
> SUMMARY OF THE DYNAMIC IN THE SEX SCENE:  
> Phil bottoms this time. The implication is that this is the first time he's ever bottomed for anyone. Dan feels like this is their last chance to have sex at all and acts accordingly - he's invading Phil's body but he keeps it slow and intimate for most of it. It's definitely lovemaking. Lots of eye contact. Read the lyrics to "Courtesan" by Sheena Ringo (easy to google) so you can see much of what Dan and Phil are both thinking during this scene.


	29. (Don't) Leave Me Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2013 begins. Phil gets married. Dan's new album is released.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK! Sort of. Updates still won't be regular quite yet, but very soon. This chapter took a very long time. The next one will take longer than usual too, but not as long as this one.
> 
> No major trigger warnings this time; there are quick vague references to Dan's drinking, vague suicide reference in the lyrics to "Gamble" (if that's how you read it).
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

**Phil Lester (28 Dec):  
** Hey, are you free?  
Was wondering if I could come by

**Phil Lester (31 Dec):  
** Amanda’s drunk asleep already. Got nobody to kiss.  
Lonely.  
Miss you.

**Phil Lester (1 Jan):  
** *kiss*

**Phil Lester (1 Jan):  
** Oh god. Just woke up.    
I’m sorry about that last text. So stupid.

**Phil Lester (4 Jan):  
** Hey, haven’t heard from you in awhile  
You ok?

**Phil Lester (6 Jan):  
** Miss you.

 

Daniel had stopped replying to Phil’s text messages.

He didn’t want to be faced with the temptation of sleeping with Phil again. He didn’t want that weighing on his conscience any more than it already was.

 

**Phil Lester (8 Jan):  
** I have a question to ask you. It’s important.  
Actually nm

 

Phil had nearly asked Dan to be his best man. His reasoning being that he was still too angry at Martyn to ask him to fill that role, and Dan was, unequivocally, his best friend. Phil couldn’t imagine anyone else as his Best Man.

But then, he used to not be able to imagine himself marrying anyone else, either.

In the end, he thought better of asking. He realized there was no chance Dan would say yes. And rightfully so. Suddenly, Phil was embarrassed by the obviousness of this. Why had he even considered, for a moment, that Dan would agree to that?

The truth was, he wanted Dan to remain part of the life he’d now be sharing with Amanda. And until that very moment, a large, naive part of him had still thought it was possible.

Now, Phil could see very clearly that he could not have both of them. Without even realizing it, he’d forced himself to choose between Amanda and Dan… and he’d chosen Amanda.

 

***

 

_ Knock knock knock. _

Phil was in the midst of pricing out manufacturing for vinyl versions of the label’s back catalog when he heard Martyn knock on his office door. Phil hadn’t told Martyn why he called him in; given the impending release of the new Dan Howell album, Martyn figured Phil wanted to meet him about their marketing and release strategy.

“Come in,” Phil said.

Martyn stepped in and closed the door behind him.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah,” Phil said somewhat absentmindedly, turning away from his computer and standing up to walk over to his brother. He extended a hand. “Truce?”

Martyn's eyes shifted. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I just… I don’t want to be mad about you and Cornelia anymore, okay?”

“You forgiving me then?” Martyn eyed Phil suspiciously, confused, but optimistic that they could feel like brothers again after the sort of cold war that had lasted far too long.

“Well… it’s not fair to still be angry with you. Time has passed, and… it turns out I never really needed Dan. I found ‘the one’ in someone else after all. So there’s no reason to hold a grudge, yeah?”

Martyn’s face dropped and he shook his head. “Put your hand down, Phil.”

Phil did as asked, but clumsily, baffled as to why Martyn wasn’t accepting his offer for peace.

“Look,” Martyn sighed. “I need to be your brother right now, okay?”

“Okay…?”

“I forgive you if you forgive me, yeah? I’m glad you want us to get along again. I miss you. I do. But the thing is… I can’t accept your truce on these terms.”

“What are you on about?”

“You didn’t find ‘the one’ in Amanda, Phil. You'd already found ‘the one’ in Dan.”

“Yeah, well, that ship sailed,” Phil scoffed. “What’s the problem? I’d have thought you’d be happy for me. You always said I’d find love elsewhere, and I did.” 

“Well, I’m not happy. I was wrong. I was absolutely, without question, wrong.”

Phil blinked, stunned to hear Martyn admit being wrong, but also shocked at the assertion. 

“For ages now,” Martyn continued, “I’ve just… Well, to be honest, I’ve  _ always _ felt guilty about stepping down and leaving you stuck. But lately, that guilt has got so much worse.” Martyn shifted uncomfortably. 

“Why?”

“Because you’re with Amanda,” Martyn said with a shrug.

“What’s wrong with Amanda?”

_ She kind of creeps me out _ , Martyn thought. “Nothing really, I guess… But I’ve never seen you more happy than when you and Dan were hanging out and writing together all the time. You might not have been officially together, but you were a duo. You were… you were something special, working together. You brought out the best in each other.” Martyn shook his head and looked at the floor for a moment. “I guess you marrying Amanda is… I mean, it’s my fault, isn’t it?”

“You say ‘your fault’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“It _ is _ a bad thing!”

Phil scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Phil, come on. Look at things objectively. And for God’s sake, look at Amanda!  _ Really _ look at her.”

“And what am I meant to be seeing?” Phil said reflexively. “I’ve known Amanda for years, she’s lovely. She makes me happy and we're like... we're like best friends! I wouldn’t be marrying her if she weren’t the right person for me.”

“Aside from you having known Amanda for so long, literally everything you just said was a lie.”

Phil bit the inside of his cheek, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Come on,” Martyn pleaded. “I know I screwed you out of pursuing a relationship with Dan, but that was back when you controlled literally everything about his career and he was still figuring this business out. But now? Now he’s a fashion icon and an LGBT icon and the last date of his tour was massively overbooked and magazines want him for photo shoots... Dan’s powerful enough now. He needs our resources and marketing team, yeah, but he’s also bringing in like half of Lester Music’s money, and that’s just on his looks and talent! Dan needs the company just as much as the company needs him, from a business perspective, so you’re on even ground now.  _ Now _ you could be romantic partners and it wouldn’t be weird.”

“All of a sudden you care about me and Dan?”

“I always did, I just… cared about myself more. And I’m sorry about that. Phil, I am so, so sorry, you have to believe me.”

“And... I do forgive you for that,” Phil said honestly. “But I don’t understand, why are you saying this to me now? I’m getting married in just over a month. It’s all planned and set up already.” Phil sighed. “In fact, I was going to ask you to be my best man tonight.”

Martyn immediately looked even guiltier. “I’m sorry, Phil,” he said. “I’d have said no. I can’t support you marrying Amanda." His voice lowered a bit. "And not just because she isn’t Dan.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Like I said, it’s not anything…” Martyn trailed off, then grumbled, frustrated. “I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s not like she’s been horribly cruel or anything. She’s very charming, yes, but…”

“But what?” Phil pressed.

“Maybe it’s just because she comes across sort of cold and impersonal, but I just don’t feel like you really know her well enough to commit to her like this.”

“I’ve known her for years!”

“But how much have you actually seen her and gotten to know her in that time?”

Phil was a bit stumped at that one.

“Plus,” Martyn added, “ever since you got engaged, we’ve seen less of you at family gatherings. You’re more anxious. You’re more defensive.”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Phil said angrily, motioning at his desk and PC, “I’m staying late after hours to take care of things lately. We’re growing a lot, there’s a ton of stuff to do, and we haven’t filled all the new positions yet, and on top of it I’ve had a wedding to help plan! Sorry if I get a bit touchy sometimes. I’m just stressed out.”

“It’s not just that. When the two of you are together you’re practically cowering. In conversations, she never lets you get a word in, and whenever she does let you speak, she interrupts you or disagrees with everything you say.”

“Not  _ everything. _ She’s just opinionated!”

“She’s treating you like you’re beneath her. And right now, honestly, you’re kind of acting like you believe you are.”

“I don’t think I’m beneath her. I’m just trying to be nice to her because I really care about her!”

“I notice you didn’t just say you love her.”

“Of course I love her.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me that. Tell me that you genuinely love her. That you respect her, and that you aren’t afraid of upsetting her, that you can be yourself around her, and that she treats you like an equal.”

Phil clenched his fists unconsciously, trying to keep his composure. “You’re overstepping, Martyn.”

Martyn took a step backwards and shook his head. “Mate, what has she done to you?”

“She hasn’t  _ done _ anything. I just so happen to see my future wife as a good person. Is that a crime now?” 

“Phil, I…” Martyn took a breath. This conversation was not going to progress any further and he knew it was time to sum up his thoughts and walk away from it. “I know I messed up back when I stepped down. I know I took happiness away from you back then. And I’ll never be able to make it up to you, but the least I can do right now is try to help you avoid misery. Marrying Amanda, it’s… it’s not gonna make you happy. Please. Please, Phil. Call it off. Try again with Dan.”

“Get out,” Phil said through clenched teeth.

Having said all he needed to say, and sad that the animosity between him and Phil would apparently continue, Martyn walked out.

 

***

 

Dan, ever the perfectionist, wanted to use his new keyboard and computer to contribute to the arrangements on  _ Nihilism _ despite the fact that everything was already meant to be finalized. Early masters of the original mixes had been completed and test pressings had been done, but Dan wasn’t going to let this album be pressed and released in its current form. 

His perfectionism annoyed everyone involved, but they let it go, knowing that he was battling issues they didn’t necessarily understand. They were sure this was just a last-minute crunch, and it probably wouldn’t happen again with future albums. He was too much of a people-pleaser typically -- if he wanted last-minute changes, they reasoned, then he had good reason.

And the changes Dan proposed weren’t based on vanity. Dan was a perfectionist, not a proud showoff. The changes either brought the songs closer to what Dan had in mind in the first place or enhanced their emotional impact. On “First Love Singer,” he re-recorded the vocals so half the syllables came from the left speaker and half of the syllables came from the right, alternating between the two. He felt like he was shattered into pieces, so in this song, he literally was. Besides, his hearing was fading; if he wanted to do an effect like this and still be able to hear it, he had to do it now. The new vocal tracks on the song were also heavy with reverb, so it sounded like Dan’s voice was something you were literally immersed in.

He added excessive distortion to the drums and some vocals on “The Maelstrom” so it sounded furious, loud, and complex. The arrangement of “Ever Free” was stripped down almost completely but also given an immense amount of reverb, making it sound more distant and isolated rather than simply sweet and sad as it had before.

Once the album was finally completely done and the new mix and master were complete, he sent them off to Phil for final approval. Phil was, after all, Dan’s producer. And would still be credited as such in this album’s liner notes.

Riding his productivity high for all it was worth, Dan completed a few photo shoots and made a video for “Gamble” -- which PJ was kind enough to come to London to help with -- before finally hitting a creative wall and suddenly stopping. Luckily, everything was completed, and he could go home and be alone for awhile.

 

***

 

On the night of February 13, Daniel had a dream.

He dreamt he was standing in a church full of people, watching Phil get married. The priest officiating the ceremony asked if anyone present objected to the union.

Daniel tried to scream but no sound came out. No matter how hard he pushed his voice out, nothing happened. No sound was produced, no one reacted, no one stopped the proceedings. He tried to run up to the altar to stop them, but his feet wouldn’t budge. He dropped to his knees, sobbing, but still, no one could hear him.

He saw feet approach him on his left side, and looked up to see whose they were.

“Anthony?” he said quietly, the sound of his voice now clear as day. “What are you doing here?”

“No one will listen if you scream,” Anthony said, his voice perfectly audible, as though Daniel’s left ear had no problems in the dream world.

“What?” Daniel asked. “What does that mean?”

“If you have to scream,” came Louise’s voice from his right side, “You’ve already lost.”

“Whisper,” said Chris, who suddenly appeared in front of him. “If you whisper, those who can hear you will listen.”

“After that,” came one last voice from behind Daniel. He turned around to see his Nana. “It’s just a matter of time.”

“A matter of time before what?”

Alice smiled. “Be patient, angel. In the end, everything turns out as it’s meant to.”

Daniel blinked, and suddenly everyone was gone. “Hello?” he called. No reply except his own echo.

He was able to walk, so he stepped up to the altar on the other end of the church, alone. His dream self suddenly felt… happy. Content, even. And then he heard one last voice behind him.

“Dan?”

_...Phil? _

Before Daniel could obey the urge to turn around, the dream was over, the sun was up, and he was awake.

And here in the real world, Phil was getting married today.

 

***

 

Phil never did ask anyone else to be his best man. So the wedding party was missing a person. The reception was missing a traditional toast. Phil was just fine with that. If it couldn’t be Dan or Martyn in that role, it needed to be empty. Anyone else would feel farcical.

Dan wasn’t the only person missing from Phil’s side of the aisle, though. PJ and Chris declined the invitation to be groomsmen. In fact, Chris didn’t attend at all in protest.

Amanda’s side of the aisle was mostly full of people Phil hadn’t even met yet, though he was acquainted with a few of them from the earlier years of their friendship. Family, old friends, new friends, all generally very amiable people. They congratulated the new couple on their wedding, wished them many happy years together, and gave tons of hugs and cheek kisses. They’d also bought a hefty collection of wedding gifts - mostly more expensive or fancier versions of things that had been on the registry.

Despite being showered with attention and material goods, Phil felt hopelessly alone around them. He hoped that given time he wouldn’t feel like that anymore.

 

***

 

Daniel spent most of Valentine’s Day 2013 crying. He didn’t drink. He let himself feel the pain of losing Phil again and didn’t try to drown it. He was sick of the lack of closure. He was sick of feeling like he still had Phil hanging on some sort of perpetually-fraying thread. He wanted to cut that thread, so he let himself lay in bed and cry.

The ceremony was set to start at 1:00 PM. He looked at the clock.

12:58.

12:59.

1:00.

He shut his eyes, trying to block out the entire world. It wasn’t real, he told himself. The man he loved wasn’t marrying someone else right that that moment.

The door buzzed right then. Daniel wiped his eyes and slowly dragged his half-dead body to the door.

“Hello?” he said into the intercom. He couldn’t tell who it is from the top of their head.

“I come bearing gifts!” Chris’s cheerful voice chirped. “Ribena, Maltesers, Pom-bears, diet Coke… Point is, it’s all rather heavy, what I’m carrying. Let me in, yeah?”

Daniel smiled in spite of himself and let Chris in. Chris would help. He always helped.

Over the course of the afternoon & evening, Daniel slowly calmed. He began to laugh again. He and Chris played video games and started catching up on Red Dwarf series X -- something Daniel had been looking forward to but hadn’t been able to enjoy back in October when it aired. He’d certainly tried, but his mind was always somewhere else. Today, though, he was able to get through the first few episodes and enjoy them.

In the calm of his mind, Daniel was able to examine the things that made him the most unhappy.

“You ever notice how the rest of the world exists on plans?” he said as it was beginning to get dark out.

“Hm?” Chris hummed, turning his head toward Dan and away from the television.

“It’s just…  _ I _ don’t exist on plans,” Daniel continued, his eyes distant. “But the rest of the world  _ does. _ And it’s like… everyone else can adapt to that. Why can’t I? Weddings happen on dates, even if I’m not ready yet. TV series premieres happen on dates, even if I can’t watch yet. The sun rises when it rises, and it sets when it sets. Fiscal years begin and end when they begin and end, and I have to release my fucking album by the end of Q1 so Martyn and Sarah and fucking  _ Phil _ and the others can do whatever math they need to do. How come I have to do things on  _ his _ schedule? Who gave Phil that kind of power over me?”

Chris knew better than to say ‘technically you did when you signed the contract.’

“I say that like it’s just Phil,” Daniel continued, shaking his head. “It’s not like Phil decided what a fiscal quarter is. The whole world just… expects you to plan things and schedule things. I feel like I’m the only person in the world who never got the hang of that. It’s like everyone got this lesson in school that I never got. I’m always either working too hard too fast for anyone to keep up with me, or I have to somehow navigate the flow of a rushing river that I can’t keep up with.” Daniel snickered mirthlessly and shook his head. “They call it flow, the way water moves, but… it’s like I keep getting hit by rocks and debris and I keep getting pulled under. Nothing ‘flowing’ about it.”

Chris listened intently until Daniel finally stopped thinking aloud. “You okay?” he said kindly.

“Yeah,” Daniel said, blinking once, slowly. “Fine.”

“The world does what it will,” Chris said. “A lot of what we humans do is react to that. But in between reacting, we can do what  _ we _ will.”

Daniel nodded, making a dissatisfied face. “Just as long as it’s on a schedule,” he said sarcastically.

Chris shrugged. “At least maybe one day you’ll be the one setting the schedule.”

“Right,” Daniel said with a disbelieving scoff.

“Hey,” Chris said. He nudged Daniel’s arm with his own. “You will. I know you, mate. You’d never accept anything less. One day you’ll be the one calling the shots.”

“I don’t want to call any shots,” Daniel sighed. “I don’t want to be a boss, I don’t want to be in charge of everyone, I just… want to feel like I belong here.”

“‘Here’?”

“Earth?” Daniel offered. “The twenty-first century? The music industry? Existence? I don’t know.”

“Well… when you  _ can _ call the shots, you’ll be able to build the life you want for yourself. One you can keep up with. One that keeps up with you.”

Daniel looked down somewhere towards the floor between him and the television. “Maybe then I won’t want Phil so much anymore.”

As always, Chris wanted to tell Daniel that Amanda was some kind of bad news -- whatever kind that was, he wasn’t sure yet, but he felt it -- and that eventually Phil would see it, and he and Dan could make it work somehow. But he could also see Daniel’s point. That maybe he wanted Phil so badly because he felt so out of control when it came to everything else. That he fixated on Phil as a goal because it was the only tangible goal he felt he could strive for.

“You’re a complete person without him, you know,” Chris said.

“I don’t feel like I am.”

“You are.”

The world expected Daniel James Howell to look to the stars, shining like precious gems floating in the sky, like glittering treasures everyone else was greedy for. But, after all, Phil was the black space between them. Despite everything, Daniel still found him so much more welcoming.

He looked out the window and sighed. The sight of the dark was nice.

“I don’t mean to kick you out,” Daniel finally said, “honestly, I really don’t. And I hope you’re okay with coming back sometime soon, ‘cause I know I’ll need the company again. But… do you mind leaving me alone for tonight? I kinda… just wanna be by myself. Just for now.”

“‘Course, mate,” Chris said, his tone warm. He understood completely. Daniel loved that about him. They really were like brothers who understood each other better than anyone else.

Sure enough, Chris was back in a few days. Thanks to his innate sense for when Daniel needed a friend to be around and when he needed to be left alone, he called to ask if he could come by just as Daniel was about to pick up the phone to call him. And slowly but surely, Dan got a little better. He still preferred to stay at home, but he started answering his phone more and drinking considerably less. He didn’t stop, but he was nowhere near constantly completely wasted the way he had been.

 

***

 

The new album’s lead single, “Gamble,” absolutely blew up to a level that was almost completely unexpected upon its release on February 21st. The video was given a countdown clock on Dan’s official website and was released alongside the single at midnight GMT. It racked up 7 million YouTube views in the first 24 hours - not record-breaking or anything, but Dan’s biggest success so far.

The LGBTQ+ community latched onto the theatrical power-ballad about falling in love with someone you shouldn’t, embracing it as an anthem for those who’d fallen in love before coming out. Heartbroken lovers of all sexualities were able to cling to it like a security blanket, however. 

At the end of March, just in time for the end of Q1, the full album was made available globally via digital and streaming platforms like Spotify and iTunes. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a Lester Music release without an extravagant physical collector’s edition -- a hardcover book style case housed in a heavy slidebox -- which was plentifully stocked in stores throughout most of the western world. It was also made available as a limited release in Japan and South Korea.

The dark, honest lyrics found all the way throughout  _ Nihilism _ were, to some critics, a “bummer” but for the most part critics and audiences alike found his honesty refreshing. The effective and memorable melodies were set against very atmospheric accompaniments, and the resulting album was cohesive while still full of stylistic variety. In its first week, it sold more than 750,000 copies globally.

Dan Howell had taken great pain and loss and turned it into art, and audiences were responding. Noisily. So the album release and its subsequent promotion cycle was the most hectic thing Phil, Hazel, Martyn, and the rest of the marketing and management team at Lester Music had ever had to deal with. The office was a constant flurry of power-walking employees, a symphony of ringing phones, a mess of paperwork and printed e-mails. Dan Howell was suddenly the most in-demand musician on the planet, and Lester Music simply didn’t have the resources to keep up with all of it. Dan’s continued self-sequestering didn’t help matters.

Fielding media requests for interviews was made difficult enough by the sheer volume of them. It was made worse for the Lester Music team by Dan’s consistent “no” answers. Occasionally, if they were fortunate and he was motivated enough, they got a photo shoot out of him. Rock Sound, Kerrang, and NME ran features on the album in the UK; Rolling Stone and Entertainment Weekly featured him prominently in the US; Crossbeat and Rockin’ On featured him in Japan. Dan Howell was officially everywhere.

 

***

 

But right now, he was laying on his bed, half-asleep, hungover, and wishing the piercing sunlight cutting through the blinds would just fucking go away.

His phone rang. He grumbled and looked at the screen. It was Phil. In a work context, at least, Phil’s voice had gradually become more and more welcome to hear recently, so he picked up.

“Yeah?” he mumbled.

Phil’s voice came singing through the speaker. “You’ve got the number one album, Dan!”

Dan sat up, suddenly very much awake. “What?”

“Go look!”

“Wh-- uh… okay, but which chart?”

Phil laughed. “Pick one!”

He put his phone on speaker and opened his web browser to check. Sure enough, the Official Charts in the UK, Billboard in America, Oricon in Japan… they all gave the top spot to one  _ Nihilism _ by Dan Howell.

“Oh my god…” Dan muttered.

“Where are you looking?”

“Japan right now, but I saw all of them… I just… I mean…  _ how _ ?”

Phil was unable to contain his ecstatic giggling. “Your album is amazing, that’s how!”

Dan tried not to blush. “Um… how many copies has the label shipped?”

“We’re about to pass a million.”

“A  _ million!?” _ Dan almost shrieked.

“You know what you need to do now, right?”

“What?” Dan asked, genuinely not knowing.

“World tour!” Phil’s smile was audible.

“Are you serious?” Dan was too far in disbelief to be excited or scared by the prospect.

“Yeah. More than that, we’re gonna have to book you much larger venues. Arenas, probably.”

Dan silently let that concept sink in. His last tour had been smaller venues all across the UK, and even that had been exciting and crazy for him. Now, though, the entire world wanted to see him. And… in arenas?

Dan remembered that night years ago with Phil.  _ “And it won’t be outside a bar where they’ll be waiting for you,” _ he’d said.  _ “It’ll be outside arenas.” _

“Holy shit,” Dan whispered. Phil had been right. It was really happening.

Phil was thrilled. “When can you come in to start planning?”

  
  


\-------------------------------------------

 

GAMBLE  
Lyrics: Daniel Howell

Because you were kind enough to give me a little smile,  
I know by tomorrow morning my crying will have stopped.  
I say as I look at your frown lines  
“If I see you, I know he’s breathing”

After many years hiding in the ground they come alive  
For some reason I feel jealous hearing their voices cry  
If I meet my end at the front line  
Wonder what I’m surrendering to?

I don’t know where I belong, don’t know what to call ‘home’  
I can’t settle down  
So tired anymore  
I don’t know if there’s anybody for me to love  
Oh no, I know exactly what the answer is…

As I stood on black and blue lines at leicester square station  
Somebody who came by gave me a push, I swear it’s true  
If I take this gamble and I lose it  
I “don’t meet prerequisites for living”

I’m looking at the world through eyes that don’t see the wild  
So should I just cry?  
Do I say what I feel?  
I don’t know if there’s anybody for me to love  
Maybe I should have stuck with the plans made before…

If I call out for somebody, then who will appear?  
I can’t live my truth  
Can’t walk anymore  
If I just turned to ash the world would be better off  
All I did was love  
How stupid of me

I don’t know where I belong, don’t know what to call ‘home’  
I can’t settle down  
So tired anymore  
I don’t know if there’s anybody for me to love  
Oh no, I know exactly what the answer is…  
And the answer is....

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics at the end are translated & paraphrased from "Gamble" by Sheena Ringo.  
> Chapter title from "(don't) Leave me alone" by Ayumi Hamasaki.
> 
> Next update should happen reasonably soon-ish? You won't have to wait THIS long again, I know that much. Thank you for being patient, I'm sincerely grateful to every one of you for being patient and sticking with me. <3


	30. Connected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan reaches out to his fans during the tour planning, and then reconnects with someone he owes an apology to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! This chapter took a really long time - hopefully the length makes up for it. Thanks for being patient everyone. :)
> 
> content warning/tw: oral sex

Planning for a world tour was...  _ frustrating, _ to put it simply. Larger venues meant more creative freedom, but international travel meant less.

_ Nihilism’s  _ unexpected success meant the label had a hefty sum of money to fund the tour, yes, but the budget was far from infinite. Dan knew he couldn’t bring a real piano on tour outside the UK -- the label didn’t have the funds for extensive repairs or replacement should anything happen. So for all global dates, Dan reluctantly agreed to replace the real piano with a custom built casing and the best keyboard the label could find housed within it.

Since most of the venues would be intended primarily for sports rather than music or theater, Dan would need to use a custom-built stage that could be constructed and dismantled at every stop. This was a good thing in that Dan had many more options for both the stage layout and mechanisms he could include, like the trap door and hydraulic lift. He could add custom lighting rigs to the stage itself rather than relying on the lights available at each venue. He would also physically have more space to perform, which meant he could include larger props and more projection screens. The possibilities were far less limited.

However, the logistical issues involved in designing a stage set that could be transported to multiple countries put a damper on many of Dan’s more ambitious ideas. If it couldn’t be brought overseas easily or if it couldn’t be recreated cheaply and quickly in each destination country, he couldn’t do it. Everything needed to be easy to bring through customs (customs delays could be factored in when they scheduled dates, but not especially long ones), and anything he helped design needed to be able to be built up and broken down quickly (or else they’d need to reserve each venue for 4 days or more for setup and teardown. Lester Music not only couldn’t afford that financially, but some countries had heavier restrictions on travel lasting longer than 3 days).

Then there was Dan’s physical condition. A world tour was going to be much, much more taxing on him than the UK tour had been, and that one had been hard enough. Having recently grown self-conscious of his weight anyway, he had no objection to beginning workouts with a personal trainer to strengthen his body and breathing. Doug would be along for the ride during this tour as well, and having a physician join Dan on the road would be even more important than last time.

Hazel made Dan promise that if he got another cold, he’d rest for real this time.

Dan’s costumes would have to facilitate easy breathing and movement while being simple enough to move overseas. They also needed to be easily tailored since, given his exercise regimen and almost certainly changing diet from country to country, Dan’s physique would definitely change over the course of the tour. The costume designer presented Dan with fabrics and materials that could work, and with those fabrics as constraints, they worked together to create costumes that met Dan’s needs both physically and creatively.

Dan coped with all this stress by making sure he was always  _ slightly _ tipsy - no more, no less - for all the planning meetings.

 

***

 

While Phil, Hazel, Martyn, and Sarah worked out exactly where Dan would be going (based on sales & listening numbers and the “Come to ___!!!” pleas most frequently seen on Dan’s social media accounts), Dan worked on the setlist.

He knew he wanted this show to tell more of a story than the first one, and now that he had three albums’ worth of material, he could. But he also didn’t want to disappoint his audience by playing songs no one particularly wanted to hear. He checked his listening statistics on Spotify and Last.fm, which told him the songs people most loved listening to at home.

But which songs, in particular, did they want to hear _ live? _

In order to figure that out, he had to look at fan discussions. He braced himself for negative feedback, and he did.

He came across a fan-run vBulletin forum  --  _ This brings back memories, _ he thought -- with what appeared to be hundreds of thousands of members. Surely some of them were duplicate, bot, or abandoned accounts, but the number of active users right that moment was still in quadruple digits. This place was huge and active.

“Wow,” he muttered under his breath.

He ran a search for the keyword “live” appearing in topic titles, and about halfway down the page of results he found a topic called “DREAM SET LISTS - What songs do you most want to hear live???”

Most of the responses didn’t surprise him - for instance, people wanted to hear “Gamble” more than anything else. There were, of course, a ton of stock responses along the lines of “I want to hear everything on  _ Cynicism _ and  _ Nihilism _ just because we haven’t heard them yet.” Not especially helpful information, but it was exciting to see how many people really wanted to hear the new songs live.

Some fans from countries like the USA and Brazil just grumbled with answers about “it doesn’t matter, he’ll never come here anyway.” Dan snickered mischievously -  _ Oh, _ he thought,  _ just you wait for this tour to get announced next week… _

For a moment he merely scanned the thread, seeing the variety of songs mentioned and the emphatic agreements. He quickly grabbed his journal and a pencil to document his findings. He read every response in the pages-long thread, taking a running tally of every song mentioned. He was surprised by the popularity of some songs and disappointed at the popularity of others. Fans’ desire to hear certain HKL songs live was shockingly high. Mentally, he briefly toyed with the idea of playing “Trust” -- which he’d written about crushing on Phil not long after they’d met -- but he found himself physically shuddering at the thought and dismissed it quickly. He did see a few requests for “teddy bear,” though, which made him smile. He definitely wanted to play that one. 

He was delighted to see that some songs he really loved, like “Breakdown,” “The Maelstrom,” and “Cast,” got a lot of mentions. Fans agreeing with his taste in his own songs made him feel understood.

He found himself somewhat addicted to finding more data. What else did people want to hear live? Despite his fears of coming across mean comments, he clicked around the forum for similar threads. Fan discussion about his first tour yielded some comments from fans disappointed that he didn’t play anything from  _ Cynicism _ during the last few dates. “Never Ever,” “The Bathroom,” “Cut Me Free,” and “Powder Snow” were all mentioned specifically in that thread, so he added those mentions to his tally.

He was absolutely loving this. Learning what songs were their favorites -- and, in some cases, why -- was addictive. He was loving the combination of validation for songs he’d worked hard on and the connection he suddenly felt with his audience. He still wanted to know more, though. One forum couldn’t possibly be enough data.

He paused and leaned back in his chair. He tapped the eraser end of his pencil on his notebook a few times. Did he dare look at Facebook and Twitter?

He checked Facebook first. His official page was public, and was full of fanmade posts -- perhaps there was a similar conversation there? Unfortunately, if there was, it was too hard to find, so there wasn’t anything useful to be found here.

Unless, of course, he started such a discussion himself.

He called Sarah. It took a few rings before she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Dan! Are you guys still planning out the dates and locations?”

“Yeah, we’re still at it. I just stepped out to answer your call. Why?”

“Good, can you put me on speaker? I have a question for everyone.”

“Sure, hang on…”

There were a couple of background sounds shuffling and popping in Dan’s hear while, he assumed, Sarah went back into the room where they were meeting and put her phone on the table.

“Okay Dan,” Sarah’s voice came back, now more echoed and distant than before. “You’re on with Phil, Hazel, Martyn, and myself.”

A greek chorus of “hi Dan” followed.

“Hey there,” Dan replied. “So… I’m trying to figure out the setlist, yeah? And I know I want to tell a story with the songs, but I also want to make sure I play songs that, you know, people actually want to hear. So I went online and I started taking a tally of the songs people mentioned wanting to hear live. But I want data from more than one set of fans, you know? Like right now I’m looking at one forum. That’s not enough information. So I was wondering what you guys thought of me basically just…like, going on Twitter and Facebook and asking people what songs they’d want to hear.”

“You’re aware that by doing that you’d be announcing the tour a  _ bit _ prematurely, yeah?” Hazel asked.

“Well yeah, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you guys first. Just to make sure that’s not a huge problem. Because I don’t feel like I’m revealing anything particularly sensitive here. I mean at this point we know the tour is happening, right? Even if there aren’t dates and locations yet. But I’m not giving that much info -- a post asking for song suggestions only says ‘hey, i’m going on tour soon,’ it doesn’t promise anything.”

“It might get a lot of people’s hopes up though,” Hazel said. “Like, what if we can’t get a tour date nailed down in a given country? Some places are really hard to travel to, as we’re quickly learning.”

She wasn’t wrong. Dan sighed before continuing. “I see where you’re coming from. I do. But part of what I want for this tour is to be able to  _ connect _ with people. You know? And I feel like asking for song suggestions would be a really good way to get that connection thing started.”

Dan paused for a moment to give Hazel or anyone else in the room a chance to speak, but no one did. He wished he could be in the room to see their faces. “If you want,” he eventually said, “I can make it clear in my posts that I’m not promising anything yet. Just to temper expectations as best I can.”

“I think it’s a pretty good idea,” a male voice said. Who it belonged to was hard to determine since he was talking to the room, not to the phone, but it sounded more like Martyn than Phil.

“I agree,” another voice said. This one was definitely Phil. “Engaging the audience is a good idea.”

“And this could really drum up hype, too.”

“Do we really  _ need _ to drum up hype?” Hazel whispered. Well, more like hissed. 

A pause. Dan thought he could hear them whispering more, talking about his idea as though he weren’t listening in.  _ Annoying, _ he thought.

“Hang on, Dan,” Phil said. “We’re talking about it.”

The phone was suddenly muted, and Dan was left waiting while the team discussed this without him. He rolled his eyes. Stubbornly, he put his fingers to work composing a short tweet that he could suggest to the team once they unmuted themselves.

 

**danhowellofficial** hypothetically if i were to go on tour and come to your city what songs would you want to hear? let me know w/ the hashtag #dhtour

 

They still weren’t back on the line yet, so, bored, Dan composed a longer & more detailed version of the tweet that he could post on Facebook.

 

**Dan Howell Official**   
so hey what’s the haps i’m going on tour again and i’m working on my setlist. the tour is in the early planning stages rn so i’m not promising anything but i wanna give the people what they want so let me know what songs you’d wanna hear if i came to your town. --:DAN

 

Still nothing from the Lester Music team. He paced around the room for a few minutes. Still nothing. He glanced at his phone to make sure he was still connected. The call timer was still going. He furrowed his brow.

“Are you guys still there?” he said.

The phone unmuted and Sarah came back on. “Yeah, they’re still talking it over. Hang on.” And the phone was muted again.

Dan plopped back down into his chair with an impatient huff. He looked at his tweet and post. The temptation to go ahead and post them out of spite and annoyance with the team was incredibly strong. He muted his phone too.

“It’s just a fucking question,” he muttered to himself. “Can’t I ask my fans a question? I just wanna know what songs people want to hear. I mean in the tweet, it says ‘hypothetically.’ In the Facebook post it says ‘early planning stages.’ Why aren’t Hazel and the others even asking me what wording I want to use? It’d probably calm her down at least. It’s free market research, come the fuck on.”

He looked at the phone. Still nothing from the others.

“My tour, my career, my fucking social media accounts,” Dan said indignantly to nobody. And then, without waiting for confirmation, he tweeted and posted his question.

Then, as if on cue, Sarah’s voice came back.

“Okay, they finally decided,” she said.

Dan unmuted his phone, slightly nervous about what they’d say now that he’d taken the initiative himself. “Okay, what’s the verdict?”

“Much to Hazel’s annoyance,” Phil said, “we appear to have come to the consensus that your social media survey idea is a good one.”

“Yeah,” Martyn confirmed. “We managed to convince her.”

“More like annoy me into agreeing,” Hazel said with a sigh. “So yeah, you’re allowed to go ahead and post on Twitter and Facebook.”

Dan chuckled. “Good, because I already did. Thanks!”

He hung up the phone, smirking.

When he looked at his computer screen, replies were already coming in on both platforms, and in large numbers. Some of them were just squealy “OMG ARE YOU GOING ON TOUR!?!?!” and “COME TO NEW JERSEY!!!” posts that weren’t especially helpful for this particular purpose, but a bunch were songs -- or lists of songs -- that people wanted him to perform. He smiled and picked up his pencil to take more songs and counts down.

Dan’s phone buzzed with a text from Hazel.

 

**Hazel Hayes**

You know, one of these days, I’m going to murder you. But for now, good job on wording your posts correctly. That’s what I would have recommended you’d say.

 

**Daniel Howell**

i wouldn’t have posted anything that promised too much.   
i’m not a *complete* idiot.

 

**Hazel Hayes**

Your love life tells me differently, but whatever  
;)

 

**Daniel Howell**

oi shut it you

 

**Hazel Hayes**

Why are you texting with me? There’s important data to be collected from what I’m seeing!

 

Dan smiled and put his phone down to tally up the song suggestions he saw. One thing he liked about Hazel was her practicality; the other thing he liked was that said practicality could be chipped away at in the name of Dan’s feelings about things. She kept him in balance in a lot of ways. Knowing his own flaws, he sincerely appreciated that.

 

***

 

Most of the performers from the previous tour had agreed to return. But since Hazel and Phil had handled the initial band and dancer coordination, Dan didn’t know exactly who would be returning. And he hadn’t thought to ask.

When Dan arrived at the rehearsal space for the first practice sessions, photocopies of the preliminary setlist in hand, he hesitated just outside the door. It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that he didn’t know if Anthony had come back.

_ What if he didn’t? Oh god, what if he did? What if he’s come back for this tour with some elaborate revenge plot in mind? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck… _

Dan took a breath and opened the door to the practice space. And there he was, talking with Changmin and Yunho, who’d returned as choreographers.

Anthony  _ fucking _ Padilla.

Dan’s posture straightened, not from confidence, but from tension too high for him to be anything other than completely rigid. Like a corpse in the midst of rigor mortis, he was stiff as a board with unfocused eyes. He sat beside Hazel at the side of the rehearsal space, his eyes never leaving his ex-boyfriend.

“Oh, hey Dan,” Hazel greeted him. “Most of the dancers are back. As of right now we only have one spot to fill, so that’s good news.”

“I see Anthony is back,” Dan said, trying to feign some sort of calmness.

“Yeah,” Hazel said. “Surprising, that. From our chat with him, he seems like he wants to be a good sport about the whole thing. Not letting the personal get in the way of the professional and all.”

Dan let himself smirk a bit. Not in a mean-spirited way, but in a fond way. “He’s broke and needs the work, doesn’t he?” he asked.

“You said it, not me!” Hazel replied knowingly, unable to hide her own smirk.

“And um…” Dan started nervously. “Phil was okay with that? With Anthony coming back?”

Hazel gave a closed-mouth sigh. “I  _ should _ tell you that he was completely fine with it, if only to discourage you from daydreaming about the guy now he’s married. But honestly? He hesitated. Like, verbally he didn’t fight us on bringing him back or anything, but he seemed… tense. He smiled through it all but you could tell he didn’t like it.”

Dan nodded.

Anthony appeared to be in a good mood. He caught Dan’s eye briefly and gave him a small wave. Dan waved back. Anthony gestured behind himself as if to ask “can we step over this way and have a chat?”

“I’ll be right back,” Dan said quietly to Hazel, and headed over toward Anthony.

“Hey,” Anthony said to him when Dan got close enough.

“Hey.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Uh… well… y’know. Good?”

“Album’s doing really well,” Anthony said, giving Dan’s upper arm a quick encouraging pat.

“Yeah, I saw the numbers. It’s uh… it’s a bit overwhelming!” Dan smiled as if relieved to be able to tell anyone how he truly felt about the album’s success.

“I bet!”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, looking around the room for something that might inspire a topic of conversation. Dan sighed nervously.

“Er… you got your hair cut,” he eventually said. “Looks good.”

“Oh,” Anthony said. “Yeah, awhile back. You like it?” He looked uncertain. “I’ve had people tell me I look like Edward from Twilight or something.”

“Yeah, if Edward owned a comb,” Dan chuckled. “I mean, looking like Edward isn’t the worst thing, right? You look… you look really great, actually.” He wasn’t just being nice. Anthony really did look incredible to him right then. Whether that was because of the haircut or just because Dan was lonely and missed his hot ex, he couldn’t tell and he didn’t particularly care.

“Thanks,” Anthony nodded.

The awkward silence and looking around returned. Anthony resorted to shuffling his feet a bit. Dan opened his mouth, then closed it. He knew what he needed to say and for some reason he was having a hard time saying it. I could use a drink for this, he thought. Eventually, fists clenched at his sides, he finally went ahead and said it.

“I’m really sorry.”

Anthony looked at him, smiling the tiniest bit, and visibly relaxed. “I was really really hoping to hear that from you.”

“I shouldn’t have-- I… I don’t even know where to begin explaining myself, to be honest. But it was such a huge mistake, breaking up with you so suddenly like that. And in public?” Dan buried his face in his hands. “God, I’m a fucking…” Dan folded his arms, making an annoyed face at himself. He smiled at Anthony, trying to distract himself from the screaming self-hate that was playing inside his mind. “I am just a raging thundercunt for doing that, okay?” he laughed, and Anthony joined him. The tension between them was dissolving quickly, and it was oddly nice.

“Yeah,” Anthony said, “yeah you were. I won’t deny that!”

“Hey!” Dan said, giving Anthony a playful punch on the shoulder. “You’re not supposed to agree with me.”

Anthony smiled warmly. “It’s okay. I mean… it hurt, but I’m doing okay. I wouldn’t have come back if I, like, totally hated you or anything.”

“I’m really glad you came back,” Dan said quietly. “I honestly didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to apologize.”

“I’m glad I came back, too,” Anthony replied. “It’s nice to see your face. Your  _ real _ one, I mean. Not the face I’ve been seeing in magazines with all the, like, makeup and Photoshop and stuff.”

Dan stood stock-still, holding his body together through sheer force of will so he didn’t melt into a puddle on the floor. After ages of wondering if Anthony really liked  _ him, _ as opposed to the rock star he played on stage, he finally knew. The person Anthony had been dating was Daniel James Howell after all.

“Really?” he asked quietly.

Anthony nodded.

Just then, Changmin and Yunho called for the currently on-board dancers to gather up so they could do a quick routine from the first tour and check where everyone’s abilities currently stood.

“I’m gonna go sit by Hazel while you guys, y’know… do your thing.” Dan internally cringed at himself.

“No pressure or anything.”

Dan chuckled. “Don’t worry. You guys are all really good. You’ll do great.”

Anthony gave him a warm grin. “You’re a good guy, Dan.”

“If you say so,” Dan said with a shrug. He smiled, somewhat bitterly, as he walked away and returned to his seat.

Watching Anthony dance again was enchanting. He’d gotten much better by the end of the first tour, and he’d clearly been practicing since. Dan felt his face redden as he realized he was crushing on his ex-boyfriend, like an idiot.  _ If Anthony wanted to try again, he’d have said something. _ Dan sighed a bit. Pining all the time had become exhausting to the point of being just plain  _ annoying _ . He wished he could turn those feelings off.

But that didn’t change the fact that under the warm, bright lights of the room, Anthony absolutely glowed. Dan had to actively work to watch the other guys dance and not just stare at Anthony the entire time. It didn’t help that some of the faces Anthony made when dancing were oddly similar to the focused expressions he used to make when exerting himself in bed.

Dan realized he was holding his breath and snapped himself out of it.

“You okay?” Hazel whispered.

“Yeah, fine.”

The guys finished dancing and sat down to breathe. Anthony looked over at Dan hopefully, silently asking how he did. Dan gave him a calm nod and a thumbs-up. Anthony did a “yes!” gesture, and Dan giggled.

Hazel looked at Dan, her face disbelieving. “Why am I even shocked?” she said.

“What?” Dan asked, feigning cluelessness.

Hazel smiled and shook her head. “This is what I mean when I say your love life makes you seem like a total idiot to me.” She gave Dan an encouraging look, though. “You thinking you wanna give him another chance?” she asked.

Dan made a nervous face. “Don’t hit me, but… kind of?”

“Honestly, you guys weren’t bad together. It’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had. Just keep it professional, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

***

 

If Dan hadn’t already been breathless from anticipation, Anthony shoving him against the wall would have knocked the wind out of him. 

“God, I missed you,” Anthony said between panting breaths and passionate kisses. He struggled to push Dan’s shirt up, having a hard time sticking to the task when there was so much of Dan still to touch.

Their mouths parted just long enough for Dan to pull his shirt over his head and for him to say, in a loud whisper, “I missed you too.”

At the end of the day, it hadn’t been difficult for Dan to seduce Anthony and get him back home. Dan couldn’t help flirting, and Anthony was still interested in Dan and had therefore been incredibly receptive to his advances.

So, now, here they were, pushed against the wall immediately next to Dan’s front door, making out like teenagers and  _ definitely _ fully intending to fuck.

Anthony removed his own shirt, then the track pants he’d been dancing in. Dan removed his jeans, kicking off his shoes when he realized they were in the way. He and Anthony laughed a little before continuing kissing.

The taste of Anthony’s lips brought back only the happiest memories of when they were still together. The feeling of his body pressed against Dan’s own was warm, inviting, and incredibly arousing.

Anthony had kept his body toned, which was making Dan feel a bit self-conscious. But when Anthony began kissing down Dan’s neck, chest, and then stomach, he made such delighted-sounding “mmm” noises that Dan felt plenty attractive.

Indeed, Anthony was  _ loving _ how soft Dan felt right now. He’d enjoyed when he was thinner, too, if he was honest with himself -- he just really liked Dan, no matter what shape he was in.

Anthony pushed Dan’s underwear down, exposing Dan’s hardened cock. Anthony ran his tongue up its length and started pumping it with one hand.

“Oh, fu--” Dan gasped, feeling his knees almost buckle.

Anthony grinned mischievously as he took Dan into his mouth. He kept going until the tip hit the back of his throat. 

“Mmm…” he hummed, lowering his voice as deep as he could, and Dan’s eyes widened upon feeling the vibrations of it.

“Fuck!” he moaned. “Anthony holy shit you’re incredible.”

Anthony continued moaning as he pulled his head back, hollowing his cheeks and letting the vacuum of his mouth take care of Dan. He pushed forward again by sucking slightly and letting his lips slide easily down the shaft on their own.

“Fuck,” Dan said, his head pressed against the wall behind him, unable to rock back any further. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck yes, Anthony, don’t stop!”

Anthony sped up, keeping up the same technique and expressing every moan as a deep, vibrating hum to tantalize Dan with. Dan scratched helplessly at the wall with one hand and ran his fingers through Anthony’s hair with the other.

Dan’s breathing got more rapid and more shallow and he thanked God he’d learned so many good breathing exercises because otherwise he’d  _ definitely _ be passing out right now. This was the most intense blow job he’d ever received and he definitely didn’t want his stupid broken body to fuck it up for him.

The unmistakable tension and warmth of a pre-orgasmic buildup was slowly gaining power over Dan’s ability to compose himself. His moans got louder, his breathing began to hitch as he approached the edge. He make sure he was looking at Anthony now, knowing the sight of the gorgeous dancer on his knees in front of him would be enough to push him over.

“Oh god I’m gonna cum,” he suddenly rattled off. He let go of Anthony’s head, but Anthony didn’t pull off. Instead, he took Dan as far back as he could. That sight was all Dan needed.

“Ah!” he moaned. He clenched his teeth together and grunted as a very intense orgasm racked his body and his seed shot down into Anthony’s throat.

Anthony felt the veins in Dan’s cock pulsate as cum flooded his mouth. He kept his lips tight around the shaft until he felt Dan soften slightly. He pulled his mouth back, dragging his lips along Dan’s very sensitive cock. Dan squeaked out a high-pitched, breathy moan as Anthony reached the head. His lips had stayed tight around Dan’s cock the entire time, making sure nothing could spill out of it before he dutifully swallowed.

“Let me see inside your mouth,” Dan muttered in a blissed-out half-whisper. Anthony obeyed, showing Dan that his mouth was empty, and Dan smirked. Anthony stood and Dan kissed him hard, tasting the tiniest bit of himself that was still left there.

“Ready to fuck me?” Dan asked.

“Fuck yes,” Anthony said, eagerly seizing Dan’s hand so he could lead him to the bedroom.

 

***

 

Daniel woke up first the next morning, his arms hanging limply off the edge of the bed. He was beginning to feel pins and needles in his pinky finger, so he gently rolled over. He faced Anthony now.

The new haircut really did suit him. The last time Daniel had woken up next to Anthony, hair had been falling into his eyes and onto the pillow, and it looked a complete mess. But now Anthony almost looked elegant. Also taller somehow.

Otherwise, Daniel’s mind was rather blank regarding Anthony. He felt no particular coziness or warmth or joy waking up next to him, nor was he disgusted or appalled at himself for sleeping with him within hours of seeing him again. Daniel felt neither secure nor insecure, loved nor hated, excited nor nostalgic.

_ Maybe I’m depressed again,  _ he thought. In the interest of science, he let himself think about the album and tour for a moment to see if it gave him any emotional reaction. And he did feel a delighted flutter when thinking about the album’s numbers, some anxiety about the responsibility that was no doubt around the corner, and excitement about a live arrangement for “A Song for…” that he wanted to try.

_ So not depressed then. At least not very. _

He looked at Anthony again and cleared his mind. He felt… something. It was faint, but it was there. Some lingering regret, perhaps. Care for Anthony that wasn’t crossing the line into love. Envy, because Anthony was a more masculine version of himself who could actually dance. And, most prominently, Daniel felt a sense of peace around Anthony, no doubt because this was a person from the past who he knew and had missed. 

But none of those feelings were felt at especially notable levels. Anthony may as well have been a piece of very nice furniture. He wasn’t especially good or especially bad. He simply  _ was. _

Daniel imagined that old married couples must feel similarly after awhile -- that eventually your partner is nothing more than another person, just as even the most beautiful skyline is merely another skyline when you’ve lived in the same city too long. Your favorite movie becomes background noise once you’ve seen it too many times. Your favorite album doesn’t mean anything anymore if you spin it too often. 

It would have explained why divorce was so common among long-lasting marriages that seemed solid. Then again, it would’ve also explained why some couples stayed together for decades -- after a certain point, the thrill may have been gone, but there was also nothing they were passionately angry or dissatisfied with.  _ How romantic, _ Daniel scoffed internally.

Maybe he  _ was _ in love with Anthony, and in the real world love was really boring. He sneered at the thought.

Grumbling and rolling his eyes at himself, Daniel slowly got out of bed, suddenly desperate for coffee.

It wasn’t long before Anthony emerged from the bedroom. Daniel was pouring a mug for each of them.

“Hey,” Daniel said over his shoulder when he heard Anthony approach behind him.

“Hey you,” Anthony said, wrapping his arms around Daniel’s midsection and resting his head on Daniel’s shoulder. “Now we’re like a two-headed monster making coffee,” he said. He kissed Daniel’s cheek, eliciting a giggle.

“That would imply that either of your hands is doing anything,” Daniel said.

“Oh, my hands can do some stuff,” Anthony teased in response, pushing a hand down the front of Daniel’s boxers.

Daniel let out a light moan and closed his eyes. “You cheeky little shit,” he said with a smile.

“We could totally just fuck in the kitchen right now,” Anthony said. It was a half-suggestion, not to be taken seriously, and Daniel could tell.

“We could, but we have to actually be responsible adult type people today.”

“Aw,” Anthony groaned, finally detaching from Daniel. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Shut up and drink your coffee, you…  _ weirdo.” _

They stood in the kitchen, in their underwear, drinking coffee and -- as usual -- avoiding the conversation that needed to be had. The silence built like a soap bubble, slowly stretching, until it finally broke apart.

“So…” Daniel started.

“So,” Anthony confirmed, with a nod.

“I guess we should probably… talk?”

“Probably.”

“I, um…” Daniel licked his lips nervously, his face twisting with anxious thought as he considered his next words. “I’m not sure how I feel about you right now.”

“Okay,” Anthony replied, his face blank.

“I still think you’re attractive, obviously. More now than ever, actually. And I really feel shitty about how I ended things before. Not just how sudden it was and the fact that I did it at the party, but I feel like… it shouldn’t have happened at all, I guess. I broke up with you for literally no good reason. And being with you last night brought back a lot of good memories. But… I don’t know if how I feel about you  _ now _ , like, all the positives… Is that based on just looking at our relationship with rose-coloured glasses? I don’t know.”

Anthony nodded. He kept his face neutral, not allowing his hopes to either rise or fall.

“I’m not like… passionately into you, I don’t desperately  _ need _ you. It’s nothing like that. Being with you is… y’know.  _ Nice. _ I just don’t know if ‘nice’ is enough of a reason for me to ask you to dinner or whatever. Especially since you’re… y’know… this… more attractive version of me. Honestly, as much as I love looking at you, I also kind of hate it because I wish I looked more like you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Anthony said with a disbelieving chuckle, setting his coffee down on the counter. “You think I’m the better looking one? Holy shit, you literally get out of bed looking like…” Anthony gestured vaguely toward Dan’s entire body. “Well, like that! You have no idea how much I wish I was anywhere  _ near _ as pretty as you. And as tall as you. Your skin is better than mine, your nose is cuter, your eyes are prettier… Jesus Christ, Dan, why would you ever want to look like anyone else? You’re perfect.”

Daniel gulped. His brain short circuited as he tried to think of a response to a compliment like that.

“Can… can you call me ‘Daniel,’ actually?” was all he could think to say.

Anthony nodded. “Of course.” He smiled and held Daniel’s free hand, raising it up between their faces and kissing one of Daniel’s knuckles. “Daniel,” he continued, “it seems to me that your only real objection to going out with me is that you think I’m the handsome one. I don’t buy that for a second. You are clearly the superior physical specimen.”

Daniel couldn’t help but laugh. He could feel the blush creeping across his face.

“And if  _ you’re _ the hot one,” Anthony continued, “Then your whole issue falls apart, right? So I think... I should be allowed to ask you… like, you don’t have to say yes, but I really want to ask.”

Daniel looked into Anthony’s eyes and saw fondness and seriousness. Anthony had been silly, but he wasn’t playing.

“Can we try again?” Anthony asked. “Can I take you out so we can just… y’know, start over? Pretend the breakup never happened?”

Daniel felt the gravity increase. His chest was tight, and Anthony’s eyes were lovely. He frowned.

“I… I know I should say yes,” Daniel replied. “I probably should give us another chance under the circumstances. But… I think… I want to get to know you as a friend again first, and then see. See what I think of you as a person. ‘Cause right now you’re not really a person, you’re just a collection of memories, you know? Rose-tinted memories of good sex and nice dates.”

Anthony gave an understanding smile and lowered Daniel’s hand. He let go of it.

“You bet,” he replied. “If you ever decide you  _ do _ want to try again, let me know.”

In the absence of Anthony’s grasp, Daniel’s fingers felt briefly cold. He put that hand around his mug and they were warmed again.

Daniel and Anthony, who knew exactly where they stood with one another, shared a surprisingly comfortable silence as they stood in the kitchen, in nothing but their underwear, and finished their coffee.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Connected" by Ayumi Hamasaki. 
> 
> (The Youtube version of the playlist has been updated with the Ambient Mix of the song, since the original is an anthem trance song that just really doesn't feet with the playlist nearly as well as the piano-based remix does, lol. Sadly this mix isn't on Spotify otherwise I'd add it there too, but eh what can ya do)


	31. count down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan realizes that everything -- whether good or bad -- ends eventually. With that in mind, Dan keeps going forward, not just for his own sake but for the sake of others as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter (ish) but a lot happens in it. There is a bit of a time skip in here too.
> 
> If you missed Chapter 30, please do read that first!!
> 
> tw: references to the abuse at Moonlight, offscreen very-minor-character death, some frank conversation about whether or not to come forward when you've suffered abuse and some people reading may disagree with the conclusion reached but not everyone is going to handle the same thing the same way, so I did what felt honest for the characters.

Not again.

Daniel’s left ear was hurting again.

He’d done his best to keep the volume of the ear monitor as low as possible to prevent damage, but even the low volume was enough to do the damage. As Dan’s ability to hear faded over the course of rehearsal, he’d turned the volume up gradually, not realizing how high up it really was and not thinking much of it. But then the pain came, and now the drumming sound, the rhythm of his own heartbeat in his ear, had returned. Unable to focus on the singing any longer, Dan excused himself.

“Sorry,” he said into the mic, shaking his head and miming for them to cut off playback. “Sorry, I have to… I’ll be right back.”

He yanked the monitor from his ear, pivoted, and ran off the stage. The quick movement triggered some vertigo, causing him to trip over himself a little and triggering some motion sickness. He felt some mild nausea then, so he righted himself and rushed towards the nearest toilet.

He leaned over the bowl and waited, but nothing came -- now that he’d paused in the toilet cubicle and taken a few breaths, the motion sickness and nausea had subsided. He sighed.

Now there was only the drumming sound and the pain. Despite knowing it would do nothing, he rubbed at the space under his earlobe, occasionally covering his ear entirely. But the pain wouldn’t stop. The drumming sound wouldn’t stop. It sped up as he grew more anxious. The pain got worse. And Dan broke.

He leaned against the wall of the cubicle and started crying. It wasn’t just the pain. He was so angry at himself for letting this happen. He’d done this to himself. What if he went completely deaf in one ear? Could he even make music anymore if that happened? Could he appreciate the music other people made?

Eventually he emerged, carefully not to turn too quickly lest the nausea return, and looked for Dr. Tobias. Luckily, she was standing outside the toilets, having seen Dan’s sudden pallidity and loss of coordination on the stage.

“Hey, doc,” Dan said, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

“Hey, Dan,” Dr. Tobias said, her tone maternal and calm. “What happened?”

“Ear is acting up again.”

Dr. Tobias had a veritable toolbelt of portable versions of equipment typically found in any triage nurse’s exam room, including an otoscope which she immediately used to look in Daniel’s left ear.

“It’s looking pretty angry, kiddo,” she said, turning off the penlight and looking Daniel in the face. “You been feeling okay lately? No cold or flu or anything?”

“No, not at all.”

“Been keeping it clean without jabbing cotton swabs into it?”

Naturally, like most people, Daniel  _ had _ used cotton swabs to clean his ears despite knowing he wasn’t supposed to. But he had been considerably more careful than most, and hadn’t gone in too deep, keeping it to a surface level cleaning.

“I’ve been doing my best,” he answered mostly honestly.

Dr. Tobias made a concerned face. “Gotta just be the sound then. How’s your tour schedule look?”

“What do you mean?”

“How soon does the tour start? And how busy is it?”

“Oh, um… here.”

Dan pulled out his smartphone and navigated to the e-mail from Hazel with the current schedule. He held it up for Dr. Tobias to see.

She sighed disapprovingly. “You can’t do this, Dan. This is too much.”

The truth was, Dan knew the tour was too packed, dates were too close together, and there was no time for his ear to rest between the major legs of the tour. But, as was typical of him, Dan hadn’t said anything to Phil or Hazel, not wanting to let them down or inconvenience them. He stood there looking like a guilty child who’d been caught misbehaving.

“I know,” he muttered.

“Have you talked to Mr. Lester about this?” Dr. Tobias asked.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“Dan, there’s nothing wrong with prioritizing your health. If that’s a bother to Mr. Lester or to anyone else, then that’s their problem. Not yours.”

Daniel nodded.

“I just…” he sighed. “I don’t know, I just feel like my ear problem is my own fault, and if I suddenly demand all these breaks and things, then I’m just being selfish.”

“Pardon my presumptuousness here, but… would you like if I referred you to a therapist, perhaps?”

“What?” Daniel said, making a face that was something between shock and disgust. “No! That’s… that’s not necessary. I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright. Well… my advice now is to talk to Mr. Lester or Hazel, or both of them, and at least ask for a break partway through the tour to get this corrected with surgery.”

“How long would recovery take?”

“A few weeks, probably.”

Dan shook his head. “I can’t put the tour on hold that long.”

“Well, at the very least, if you give your ear more time to heal after every few dates, you can probably get surgery after you get back home. But I wouldn’t put it off any longer than necessary. This tour could do a lot of damage.”

“Yeah. I’ll get it taken care of.”

“You promise?”

Dan gulped. Asking Phil and Hazel to reschedule already-scheduled dates was going to be a nightmare for him. He hated the idea of doing it. But for his health, and for his fans, he had to. So he took a breath and replied. “I promise.”

 

***

 

Dan sat in silence at the computer desk, the glow of the monitor a harsh glare in his otherwise dark flat. The beer bottle sitting off to the side of his mouse and keyboard was still almost completely full despite having warmed to room temperature and the condensation having long since evaporated.

The lyrics on his screen glared at him, unfinished and seemingly angry about that fact. Dan felt judged by his own words.

He looked back at the notes he’d written in his journal, trying to recapture the way he felt when he jotted the lines down after rehearsal the day before.

 

_ I finally found this utopia, this paradise, this place where I belonged, but I guess it was just a dream.  
_ _ This deafness was like a harsh blast of cold air waking me up  
_ __ And now i’m left reeling from it, trying to regain my footing.

_ But i’m not crying. Not that I’m smiling either...  
_ _ It’s just that I’ve been through so much already  
_ __ I’m totally empty. I feel nothing at all even though I feel like I’m supposed to.

_ It’s coming soon. The end of my career, the end of my dreams....  
_ _ The end is beginning.  
_ _ I can sense it even from far away. I can hear it even without my left ear working correctly. _ _   
_ __ But I�'ll take the hits that are coming to my left side and I’ll take them standing tall.

_ I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me. _

 

These were hard words to work from. His hearing loss had sent his heart and mind into a thousand different directions, and what he’d written had been awkward and had jumped around so much. And now that the immediate fear and stress had faded to his default zero state of emotionlessness, it was too hard for Dan to recapture the anxiety and fear well enough to rewrite these notes into proper lyrics.

He set the journal aside and shut off his computer monitor, choosing instead to choke down the warm beer before trying to sleep.

 

***

 

Morning.

Daniel was awake earlier than usual. He sometimes wished he was a morning person. Single-digit hours on weekends were often quite pleasant for their stillness, and he liked them. There weren’t many cars going by outside. Birds were conversational but not irritating. Neighbors couldn’t be heard chattering.

Daniel absentmindedly turned on the television and the mood of his morning instantly shifted.

“--at age 78. Moon was the founder and CEO of famed agency Moonlight Talent, which produced such acts as pop-rock group The Atlantis Times, and two members of former boy band HKL, including rock icon Dan Howell.”

Daniel nearly fell to his knees when he looked at the screen. A montage of photos on the screen of John Moon -- a face that would have struck terror into his heart any other day -- was accompanied by a lower third that read “John Moon Found Dead At Age 78.”

Daniel felt guilty for the relief he felt wash over him. For wanting to smile. He was never one to wish death upon anyone, not even John Moon. Mr. Moon, who had enabled and encouraged abuses of all sorts. Mr. Moon, who would stand over Dan as he cried, looking down his nose at him for being so weak that he couldn’t handle “a little criticism.” Mr. Moon, who… was gone now.

Mr. Moon was gone.

The sound Daniel produced was something in between weeping and delirious laughter, as though his brain short circuited at the thought of having to choose which one to do.

Amidst the sound of his own sniffling, Daniel heard his phone ring. He hurriedly answered when he noticed who was calling.

“Chris!” he said, more happily than he intended to.

“Are you watching the news then?”

“Yes! I… what happened?”

“Heart attack, I expect, but the cause of death isn’t released yet.”

“I hope he had a heart attack mid-wank before he could actually get off,” Daniel spat.

“Mate… I completely agree.”

Daniel and Chris laughed.

“What d’you think’s gonna happen to Moonlight?” Chris asked aloud.

“I dunno. I hope they investigate it now he’s gone and they shut that place down forever.”

“Same.”

Dan took a breath. “D’you reckon I should… I dunno…”

“What?”

“Should I say something? To the press or to the authorities, I mean?”

Chris sighed. “You know that’s up to you. I’ve never been able to. And… you’re not a bad person if you can’t.”

“I kind of feel like I am.”

“No. Don’t even start with that. We all need to do what’s best for us, to survive day to day. As soon as you feel like you can say something, if it seems like it’ll help, then you should. But if you can’t, then don’t.”

Daniel was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I  _ should _ see a therapist at some point,” he mumbled.

“Come again?”

“Dr. Tobias suggested I see a therapist. Mostly about my ear and my like, people-pleasing tendencies.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I got all defensive and said no. Maybe I should though.”

“It’s not a bad idea if you think it might help.”

“I do. I just… I know you say I’m not a bad person, but I feel like one for being so scared to talk about Moonlight and what happened there. I feel like a bad person for not being able to forgive John Moon for everything he allowed to happen. I feel like a bad person for being happy he’s dead.”

“You’re not a bad person. Especially not for… y’know. Not wanting to say something.”

“The thing is, Chris… I  _ do _ want to say something. I want to make sure people know this stuff happened. I want to make sure other agencies don’t get away with that sort of thing. I want to make sure the people who were at Moonlight get help for what happened. But… wanting it isn’t enough. It’s not enough to get me to actually  _ say _ something. I’m still… I’m still nervous and afraid, and… I can’t do it.”

“It may not be enough to get you to say anything,” Chris replied, “but  _ fear does not make you a bad person. _ Okay? Even just wanting to try means that you’re not a piece of shit. Please don’t talk so badly about yourself. You’re kind, you’re clever, you’re creative, and you’re incredibly strong. I mean, look what you’ve done with your life! You’ve been through so much, and you’ve become so successful. Shit, Defranco Media are this close to finalizing their deal buying Lester Music. Lester’s gonna be a major label, an  _ actual _ major label. All our jobs are about to become way more stable, and it’ll probably create a bunch of new ones too. And you did that! You’re a damn superhero, Daniel Howell.”

“Yeah, I know,” Daniel sighed, dismissing this “accomplishment” as little more than good luck.

After a moment of quiet, Chris asked, “Do you want me to come over?”

“Nah. Honestly… I’m feeling pretty good about today. I’m rehearsing with the band this afternoon, so I can get shit out of my system.”

“Good. Call me if you need anything, yeah?”

“‘Course.”

“Cheers mate.”

“Bye, Senpai.”

Chris snickered before saying “bye” one last time and hanging up.

John Moon was dead. Daniel felt free somehow. He’d always thought he’d want some sort of closure or confrontation, some sort of apology for Mr. Moon. But some part of him always knew he’d never get that, even if he spoke to him again. Mr. Moon would have never admitted having done anything wrong and he certainly wouldn’t have apologized for everything he did that was “for your own good,” as he frequently said.

But no. It wasn’t closure he wanted. He just wanted Moonlight to be gone. He hoped that now, without Mr. Moon flexing his industry power to stop it, the agency would be investigated and shut down. He wanted the pain to end, and not just for himself. He wanted to make sure no one got hurt like that anymore.

John Moon was dead, and that meant the nightmare would finally end.

 

***

 

Dan felt himself oddly motivated that afternoon. A massive weight on his shoulders had been lifted. It didn’t magically turn him into the confident, proactive person he imagined himself one day becoming, but it had helped. It was one less thing weighing on his mind and heart.

Suddenly it didn’t feel so pointless to stand up for himself and his health, at least in this one little way.

Before going to practice, he called Phil and Hazel and explained what Dr. Tobias had told him. Without much fanfare, they gladly and happily began rescheduling dates to give Dan’s ear more time to recover and rest.

He started crying over the phone.

“You alright, Dan?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, I just… um. I didn’t expect you to just… be okay with that. I know it’s got to be such a pain for you to reschedule basically the entire tour.”

“Dan,” Hazel said calmly, using a tone Dan would never have expected given her usual sassy no-bullshit nature. “It’s your health, darling. We’re not gonna let you hurt yourself just because it’d be inconvenient for us to help. That would be abuse, and that would not be okay. Your health always comes first, okay? Don’t be afraid to ask for things like this.”

Dan flat-out sobbed. He hadn’t realized how much he’d expected abuse “for his own good” to continue past his days at Moonlight, but he had. And now he knew the nightmare really  _ was _ over, at least for him.

 

***

 

The purchase of Lester Music was finalized during Q3 2013.

The result of this was massive organizational changes that were complex and made Dan’s head spin, but he was happy to get so much stock in the company (reasonable considering his influence in the company and, lately, music industry as a whole). Luckily he was able to attend meetings at the Defranco offices during a break between the UK leg of his tour and the European leg.

However, in the official company e-mail announcing the acquisition, there was one line that really bothered Dan, and he couldn’t figure out exactly why. It was cryptic in its reference to “new leadership,” making it sound as though it were referring to Philip Defranco and his board & management team, but something about it didn’t sit right with Dan. There was more to it that wasn’t being made clear.

So he called Phil.  _ His _ Phil. Phil Lester.

“Phil?”

Phil sniffled on the other line and sounded like he was obviously trying to sound composed when he wasn’t. “Oh, Dan! Hi.”

“Phil, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fine.”

“We only say ‘fine’ when we’re not fine.”

Phil was silent for a second. “They’re letting me go.”

“What?”

“Defranco Media is, um… They’re firing me. I’m in this like, handoff transition period right now but m--”

“They’re  _ what!?” _ Dan exclaimed.

“It’s okay. I don’t… I’m not any good at this job anyway. We both know it.”

“Bull-fucking-shit! You’re the one who got Lester Music to a place where fucking Defranco even wanted to purchase it! What the f-- do they think that happened by  _ magic _ or something?”

“They think it happened because of Dan Howell, and it did.”

“Well Dan Howell happened because of _you,_ so--  _ fuck! _ You know what?”

“What?”

“I am marching over to the office…”

“No, Dan, don’t, you don’t have t--”

“...and I am going to fuck him  _ right _ up if he doesn’t give you your job back.”

Daniel hung up the phone before Phil could say anything else. He immediately called Jack Howard, though. He had an idea.

 

***

 

Dan and Jack marched into the lobby of Defranco Media U.K.

“Yes,” the receptionist politely asked, “how can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Defranco,” Dan said plainly.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. And I won’t be making one. I need to see him right now.”

Jack looked over at Dan with an impressed but somewhat afraid look while the receptionist called Mr. Defranco’s office.

Just then, Phil Lester rushed through the front doors in an attempt to stop Dan from doing anything embarrassing or stupid. “Dan!” he called. “Dan, what are you doing?”

“I’m going upstairs. And don’t try to stop me -- I’ve been working out and I _will_ kick your ass.”

“Oh god,” Phil said, exasperated.

“Mr. Defranco says he’ll see you. You can head on up.”

Dan, Jack, and Phil all used their company badges to buzz in and head upstairs to the top floor. They rode the elevator in silence, neither Jack nor Phil having any idea what to say to Dan.

When they reached the top floor, Dan pushed open the double doors to Mr. Defranco’s office with a flourish.

In lieu of a hello, Mr. Defranco made a slightly impressed face and, smiling, said, “Well, I had heard you were a bit theatrical!”.

Dan hadn’t spoken to him formally yet but he already didn’t like him. “This is my lawyer, Jack Howard. We need to speak with you.”

“Hello,” Jack said politely. Mr. Defranco returned the hello politely, offering them water and dishing out pleasantries and making Dan roll his eyes.

“I want to have a chat about Mr. Lester, actually,” Dan said, getting straight to the point as quickly as he could before his confidence wore off.

“Okay,” Mr. Defranco said. “Have a seat.”

The three of them took seats in the plush chairs facing Mr. Defranco’s desk.

“It’s my understanding that you’re letting Mr. Lester go as president of the Lester Music subsidiary.”

“Yes. The board and I felt that it was best that we brought it someone with more management experience.”

“Four years as the head of his own label doesn’t count as ‘experience’?”

“Lester Music has had its fair share of ups and downs. We just want to bring in someone who can better steer the ship.”

“Can you elaborate on these ‘downs’ you’re talking about?”

“Two artists have exited the label, the mismanagement of your first tour, poor returns during Q2 of 2013 and Q4 of 2012…”

Unconvinced, Dan raised his eyebrows, urging Mr. Defranco to continue. “And?”

Mr. Defranco hesitated. “And… admittedly, the rumors of his romantic involvement with you are a concern.”

Dan’s lips curved up in an amused grin. “Romantic involvement? He’s married. To someone who is quite clearly not me. And he’s loyal to his wife to a fault, to be honest.”

“I’m sorry, but public image is key in the entertainment industry.”

“Is it?” Dan asked rhetorically. “Honestly, I think renegotiation of contracts are more important. And luckily for me, you done fucked up there." Dan turned to his lawyer. "Jack, could you explain to Mr. Defranco the nature of my contract? Just sum up the terms very quickly?”

“Of course,” Jack said, pulling out a copy of Dan’s contract. “Given Lester Music’s nature as an upstart and very experimental label, it’s a non-standard contract that Dan is grandfathered into. It has a ten-year term, but it’s non-binding should Dan feel at any point like the label isn’t giving him what he needs to do his job.”

“Jack, in your professional opinion, would you say I need Phil Lester to do my job?”

“Yes. Given the hands-on work he’s done in building your brand, co-writing songs, and helping produce your music in the studio, I’d say Phil Lester’s presence at the label is indeed necessary for you to perform your duties as an artist and performer.”

“Hm,” Dan said, making direct eye contact with Mr. Defranco. “Interesting.” He turned to Phil Lester. “Phil, would you be available to help me write a song or talk about branding for new merchandise at a moment’s notice if you weren’t employed by this label?”

“Certainly not,” Phil said honestly, a bit taken aback that this entire exchange was even happening.

“And what if you were demoted and had to work in music production or branding for other artists?”

“There’s no way I’d have the freedom to help you when you needed it. You might need to work with other producers or something.”

Dan looked at Mr. Defranco again. “Interesting indeed.”

Mr. Defranco, meanwhile, had turned pale. He knew what was coming.

“It sounds to me like if you fire Mr. Lester, or if you remove him from his current position at all, you’re in breach of contract. That means I’m free to break my end of it.” Dan stood up. “Bottom line, Mr. Defranco… if Phil goes, I go with him. That’s a promise.”

Dan turned to walk out of the office, Jack and Phil following behind him.

“I’ll give you 48 hours to think about it,” he said, not looking back over his shoulder.

 

***

 

They were silent in the elevator again. But when they reached the lobby, Dan thanked Jack for his help looking over the contract so they could plan this little ultimatum. They said their “see you laters” and Jack headed home. 

Dan already knew he’d won, but when his phone buzzed with a text from Philip Defranco saying “You win. Phil stays.” he smiled calmly. Phil’s job was safe.

Phil, meanwhile, had just begun to collect himself.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

Daniel gazed at Phil with a strange combination of frustration and fondness. “I was the only one who could have.”

“You put your job on the line! What if he hadn’t kept me on board? You’d have been sacrificing your career.”

“First of all, there’s no way he’d have sacrificed the money I bring in right now. I hate talking about myself like I’m a product, so you have to understand how sick it makes me to acknowledge that, but it’s true. I wouldn’t be saying it if it weren’t. Secondly…” Daniel approached Phil more closely so he could speak more quietly and not have the entire lobby hear them. “Never, ever forget what I said. I like my job.” He dropped his voice entirely to a whisper. “But I love you. And that will never change. You will always come first for me. Even if you never do the same for me in return.”

Phil’s eyes sparkled with the beginnings of tears. He didn’t deserve this.

“Go home, Phil. Get some rest so you can come in to work tomorrow.”

Daniel walked out the ground floor doors and headed home, leaving Phil alone in the lobby of the company he still worked for.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from "count down" by Ayumi Hamasaki; Dan's notes are paraphrased and unpacked from the same. It's been added to both playlists. :)
> 
> Thank you for your continued support everyone <3


	32. Interview: A Finely-Honed M.O. / LHR → JFK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to tell Shane about Phil's unhappy marriage, but the full story can't come from Dan alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK it's back the story is back HI GUYS I'm sorry this took so long. This is a really odd and unusual chapter that gave me a lot of trouble as far as formatting, lol. 
> 
> This chapter includes a lot of out-of-order flashbacks. They were originally denoted by italics, as is consistent with other parts of the fic that flash back, that got SO strenuous to read cuz they’re pretty long. As a result, instead of italics, I’ve used a different divider to denote when they begin and end. So from now on, *** is the border for time-skips and scene changes, but ~*~*~ will show the start and end of flashback scenes.
> 
> tw this chapter: cheating, examples of gaslighting and emotionally abusive behavior.

“Do you mind if we stop here for lunch?” Dan asked Shane. “It’s a bit early, I know, but we missed our break and I’m… ravenous, I don’t know about you.”

“I need to take a crap!” Shane said, making a silly face in the general direction of the crew, some of whom chuckled discreetly or smirked at him.

Dan, however, barely noticed Shane’s comment. His face was twisted as well, but into a thoughtful expression as something had occurred to him. “When we get back,” he muttered, “actually…” Brightening his face up, he re-engaged with reality outside his head. “Hey, Phil?” he called.

“Hm?” Phil picked his head up and looked in Dan’s direction.

“Um… I think I’d like to explain... you know. Er. Amanda.”

Phil lifted his eyebrows. “You can, that’s fine.”

“The thing is, I think it needs to come from you.” Dan turned to Shane, who was getting up to stretch a bit. “Would that be okay?”

“Absolutely,” Shane replied, “long as he’s cool with it!” With that, Shane patted Dan on the shoulder and headed to the restroom, saying he’d be right back and leaving Daniel and Phil to chat.

“You’ve heard me tell you that whole story,” Phil said, approaching where Daniel was sitting. “Hell, you saw what she was like yourself a couple of times. I don’t mind you talking about it.”

Daniel shook his head. “I think the audience needs to hear it from you. I’m not the right person to talk about your ex. I’d be too biased for people to take it seriously.”

“You sure?”

“Definitely. Only if you’re comfortable with coming on camera, of course, but… I mean, I thought I’d ask.”

Phil took a breath to collect himself. “Yeah. Just go right into it after lunch?”

“Yeah.”

Phil exhaled and mulled it over. Daniel bit the skin around his thumbnail and intently watched Phil’s scrunched face. With a blink and a slight tilt of the head, Phil raised his eyebrows and visibly lowered his tensed-up shoulders. Finally looking relaxed, Phil slowly nodded. “I think I can do that.”

Daniel smiled brightly, relief washing over him. “Thank you.”

 

***

 

Daniel and Phil went on their own to a nearby vegetarian noodle place. Dan could grant that it was still unusual for them to be alone together and have it be comfortable, but even still, Phil was more distant than Dan thought he’d be.

“You okay?” Daniel asked.

“Hm?” Phil said, moving his eyes up to Daniel’s. “Yeah, fine. Just… thinking.”

“I’m sorry, should I not have pushed you to talk about Amanda?”

Phil responded with a genuine, if understated, smile. “I promise it’s totally fine. You’re right, it should come from me, and… it’s not like the memories are traumatic.”

“But they still stress you out, clearly.”

“A bit. Sure. Mostly because I’m embarrassed I didn’t see problems that, you know…  _ now _ they’re very obvious.” Phil lowered his voice. “But if it turns out you finally want to really give you and me a try, I want… I want your fans to not hate me. I know, maybe it’s childish, needing people to like me, but… I know that when you're famous, it's important that the person you’re dating looks good. So… I need to defend myself. You know. For you.”

A hint of a smile came to Daniel’s face at the idea of the two of them together and his fans being happy about it. He breathed, noticing how calm he suddenly was. 

“So…” Phil said tentatively, steeling himself for a retaliation that would be completely justified. “I noticed that… timeline wise, we’re getting pretty close to your Dad’s death.”

Daniel made a grumpy face, but he nodded. “I have to admit I’m not as nervous about it as I thought I’d be, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad we were gonna talk about Amanda first. I kind of appreciate the procrastination it gives me.” He smiled bitterly.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Phil said, continuing to tread carefully. “Why does it bother you so much? I always knew it did, but… I guess I never really fully got why.”

Daniel gave Phil an amused and disbelieving look. “What, besides the fact that he was my dad and he died?” he said with a sarcastic chuckle.

“I mean obviously I know that!” Phil said defensively. “It’s just that, I don’t know… I can’t really relate so I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but… if you didn’t even really _know_ him, I guess…”

“Why does it affect me so much?”

“Yeah.”

“Because I didn’t lose a dad, I lost, like… this dream of one day meeting him, you know? Getting… an apology, or something.”

“Closure?”

“Yeah,” Daniel nodded. “Closure.”

_...Beige, _ Daniel suddenly thought.  _ Shellie’s car. The interior was beige. No wonder I couldn’t remember, it’s the most non-colour colour in the universe. _ He chuckled unconsciously as he stared into space.

“Daniel?” Phil said, snapping Daniel out of his daydream.

“Hm?” Daniel said, shaking his head slightly. “Sorry, just… remembered something.” He looked at Phil, his face suddenly brightening a little, and took a bite of his lunch.

“Something good?” Phil asked, confused but happy to see Daniel suddenly cheered up.

“Yeah,” Daniel said calmly with the slightest smile. “Yeah, kinda something good.”

 

***

 

“Okay,” Shane said. “I’m gonna do a tiny little intro here to explain why you’re the one talking now, and then you can start wherever, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Phil replied, his made-up face betraying his nervousness.

“Alright.” Shane turned to the camera. “So… now we have Phil Lester here. Dan has explained to me that Phil’s ex-wife was a major factor in how Phil treated not just Dan, but like, everyone else. Including the company itself.” Dan nodded while Shane looked back at Phil. “So, Phil, what was the deal with your ex-wife?”

Phil inhaled and squared his shoulders. “Um… Well, to start, I’m not going to say that, like, I had no agency in how I acted. Putting it all on Amanda and not taking personal responsibility isn’t what I’m about. Dan deserves better than that. So do your viewers, really. But… Amanda was… charming, but dangerous. Dangerous because she was charming.” Phil gave a nervous laugh. “The fact that I’d known her for years, too, like… I honestly thought we would be okay. I honestly thought  _ she _ was okay. But looking back after, she was very manipulative.”

“Was she like, abusive?”

“Not physically.”

“But like, emotionally? Mentally?” 

Phil reluctantly nodded. “Yeah.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Can you believe that? He just… marched into Defranco’s office and saved my job.” Phil shook his head and tasted the pasta sauce he was cooking on the stove. “Hm. Needs more salt.”

“Not too much salt, darling,” Amanda said, sat on an empty section of the kitchen counter. “We need to watch our sodium.”

“Of course.”

“And yes, that was quite noble of him.” Amanda put on a smile. “Not that he was really sacrificing anything, but I bet it was very heroic-looking.”

“Well, I mean... yeah, you’re right, he wouldn’t have gotten dropped from the label for it. I know that much. But still. I appreciated the gesture. How could I not? He got me my job back. The peace of mind is really--.”

“You do realize there are plenty of openings at the agency, right? I could have got you something.”

“Would that not have been a conflict of interest or something?”

“No, there are plenty of married couples working there.”

Phil nodded, continuing to stir the sauce. He knew he should be appreciative that he had connections at another workplace, and that insisting on keeping his job made him perhaps seem immature and whiny. But he liked his job -- it was only natural that he’d want to keep it. That wasn’t a crime, but he was afraid of what Amanda would say if he told her he didn’t want to work with her at the agency.  _ Why do you hate me? _ she’d ask.  _ Why wouldn’t you want to work with your wife? It’s because you want to keep working with  _ him, _ isn’t it? What’s so special about him? He’s a child! Just another selfish rock star, they’re all the same! _

“Don’t overcook that sauce,” Amanda said. “You don’t want to scorch it.”

“I know what I’m doing, Amanda,”

“There’s no need to be an arse about it.”

“I’m sorry!” Phil said in a hurry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound grumpy.”

Amanda sighed and folded her arms. “The pasta’s done. You should take it off the--”

“Yeah, I was just about t--”

“Don’t interrupt me! Oh my god, you never let me talk!”

 

***

 

Amanda and Phil ate their spaghetti in silence, Amanda occasionally giving Phil a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and that he didn’t return. She’d promised to make the garlic bread if he took care of the pasta and sauce, but she didn’t. 

Of course she didn’t.

He didn’t dare mention it.

 

~*~*~

 

“What made it so hard for me to see her abuse for what it was…” Phil swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Go on,” Shane urged kindly.

“Everything she accused me of, or that I was afraid she’d accuse me of, was true. Like, I didn’t mention the garlic bread because I knew she’d say she couldn’t make it because she was so busy supervising me while I made the sauce. And I would just think, yeah, without her watching maybe I would have scorched it or added too much salt or whatever. And…” Phil sighed. “You know… I  _ did _ like Dan more than I liked her. And it was true that I didn’t want to work at the same company as her.”

“So when she used that sort of stuff against you…”

“It was easy for me to let her call me names and accuse me of never being good to her even though I really was trying.”

“Were you really trying to, like… be a good husband then? Like were you trying not to think about Dan?”

“I really was. Most of the time, anyway. When I was with her, as long as she was being civil, I was able to avoid like, escaping into these ridiculous daydreams of… you know… being with this other person. But when she wasn’t being civil, it was harder. Like when she was just flat-out gaslighting me, when I could see it, I’d often just… wish I was with Dan instead. And feel awful about it, of course.”

“What kinds of things did she say to you that weren’t true?”

“That I always interrupted her when she talked. That I never let her speak. That I never came with her to her office parties. That I always abandoned her as soon as my mum asked for a family dinner together. And it was these ‘always’ and ‘never’ things, you know? I think I canceled on  _ one _ of her office parties _ one _ time in favour of dinner with my parents, and that one time became ‘oh you  _ always _ do that.’”

“And so she just made you feel guilty all the time?”

“Yeah. And all I wanted to do was to _ stop _ feeling guilty, you know? I wanted to keep her from being angry with me. So when she asked me to do anything, like… for instance, when she told me to say yes when Philip Defranco offered to buy the company… I said yes, even though I really really didn’t want to sell.”

Shane leaned back in his chair, his mouth agape. “Holy shit!” he exhaled. “That’s... quite the plot twist there.”

“Yeah,” Phil answered. “At the time, though… even though I’d said no to Defranco Media more than once in the past, it seemed like a no-brainer right then so it was easy for her to convince me. Like, I’d been happy with the natural growth of the company so far, but she knew I wanted the company to grow more, and that this would be a huge amount of growth really quickly. She would say things like, oh, you’ll be able to get more global distribution for your artists, you’ll be able to sign more people, you can get more studio time… And one thing she was totally right about was that promotion and venue booking for Dan’s tour would be much less of a financial burden on Lester Music if we had Defranco Media handling a lot of it.”

“Thank god the tour did so well though,” Dan said. “If it hadn’t, I’d  _ still _ owe Defranco Media money with how much it cost, Jesus Christ.”

“The fact that saying yes would apparently make Amanda happy,” Phil continued, “like… I didn’t even question it, like, why did she want me to sell so badly? Now I see she just wanted the two of us -- or, more specifically,  _ her _ \-- to have more money. Like it's so incredibly obvious now.”

“Dan, what were  _ your _ interactions with Amanda like?”

“They were few and far between, but always just sort of silently hostile. I’m pretty sure she knew Phil and I had, um… a history, I guess. I’m not sure she knew that he’d slept with me when they were together, but she, like... definitely saw me as a threat. And, y’know, fair enough.”

“Did she actually say that to you?”

“She was very territorial, is all. I never saw her away from Phil, I don’t think. So I only really knew her in the context of how she acted when we were all in the same room. And when it was only the three of us, she was not shy about insinuating that they were going to, like, go at it like rabbits as soon as I was gone.”

“Oh my god,” Shane rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. And like… When I disagreed with Phil, she’d agree with him. When I agreed with him, she’d, like, agree  _ harder,” _ Dan laughed.

Shane laughed right back. “She  _ what? _ ”

 

~*~*~

 

Dan and Phil sat in Phil’s lounge, sketches and papers strewn about with ideas and designs covering them from edge to edge.

“What I want to do is transition from ‘Teddy Bear’ to ‘A Song for…’ with this sort of like… You know those old music box slash jewelry box things with a ballerina in them?”

“Yeah,” Phil nodded.

Pointing at details in a few sketches that lay on the table in front of him, Dan explained. “I want to have one of the dancers doing sort of ballet-style choreography towards the end of ‘teddy bear’, right, and have them dance into a big jewelry box prop while I’m offstage, between songs, then when I come back and start ‘A Song for…’ the box opens and they’re in there as sort of this parental figure, right?”

“You know what you could do,” Phil said, “is you could do some… like, not dancing, but just movement, to make it look more like you’re interacting with the ballet dancer in the music box.”

“Ooh,” Dan said. “That’s a good idea. As long as I don’t go too overboard, if the movements are really natural.”

“That’s my Phil,” Amanda cut in, sitting on the sofa armrest next to Phil and putting her arm around his shoulders. “You’ve always got the best ideas, my little honeybee.” She kissed the top of his head and smiled brightly, making sure Dan was watching.

Dan raised his eyebrows at Phil questioningly.

“Uh, thanks… dear?” Phil said to Amanda.

“Anyway,” Dan said, “which of the dancers do you think would be best for it? That’s the only question I had.”

“Honestly,” Phil replied, “I feel like Nathaniel has the best overall dance style for it. He’s like, very fluid and has really good control.”

“I thought so too at first,” Dan said, “but I’m not sure a guy dancer would be the best fit. Since the song is sort of addressed to my mother, you know?”

“There’s no reason to be sexist, Dan,” Amanda said. “It’s the 21st century, men can be ballerinas too.”

Dan glared at nobody in particular to avoid coming across more hostile than he intended. “I’m aware, obviously,” he said. “It’s just that this character in particular, since I’m wanting to sing to a parental figure… it is more personal if it’s a woman to represent my mum.”

“Well you don’t have to get so haughty about it,” Amanda said. “It was just a suggestion.”

“Noted,” Dan said tersely.

Phil cleared his throat. “Well. If you want one of the woman dancers, Midori doesn’t have quite the level of control, but she probably suits the role best.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Isn’t she Chinese or something though?” Amanda cut in again.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Japanese, actually, but why does it matter?”

“Well if she’s supposed to play your mum, shouldn’t she be white like you?”

Dan was rendered unable to speak for a moment while his brains circuits rewired themselves back to normal. “Wha-- y-- how can you _ possibly  _ accuse me of being sexist and then make a racist comment like that?”

“How can you say this dancer is supposed to play a character, and that they need to be a certain type of dancer, and then go back on that casting immediately after?”

Dan didn’t dignify that question with a response. He instead began gathering up his sketches and doodles and notes, moving with purpose.

“You’re ignoring my question?” Amanda spat. “Rude. You can just get out of my home until you can behave yourself, then.”

“I was already leaving, you fucking c--”

“Dan,” Phil said harshly. “Don’t you dare.”

“It’s alright,” Amanda said, her nose in the air. “He can call me whatever terrible name he likes.”

His papers in hand, Dan stood up and headed toward the door, not waiting for Phil to walk him out. “If I did that,” he said, “it would be awfully disrespectful to our dark lord, Satan, now wouldn't it?” He smirked bitterly and marched out the door, slamming it behind him as hard as he could.

 

***

 

“You didn’t need to be so rude to Dan earlier,” Phil said as he turned down the duvet.

Amanda stood on the other side of the bed, her arms folded. “Apparently I did. I try not to be rude to him, but he really brought it on himself.”

“How did he?”

“He shouldn’t have ignored me.”

“Maybe he just didn’t know what to say.”

“You always give him the benefit of the doubt! What is it with this guy?”

Phil opened his mouth, but, unable to formulate a good answer, he just shrugged.

“Look,” Amanda said sweetly, “I know you think he’s charming or whatever, but you know he’s just another entitled rock star who’s using you.”

Phil wanted to ask “And how exactly is he doing that?” but he knew better than to stop Amanda in the middle of one of her grand speeches.

“He thinks you’re cute, so he just comes over here to gawk at you like some lovesick puppy,” she went on. “And it’s not like I blame him. You’re such a treasure,” she added, her voice dipped in a sugary coating of false affection. “But -- and I’m only saying this to save you from disappointment later -- he’s not going to actually use any of your ideas, you know. You’re a fool to think he’s going to take your input seriously. He’s gotten ahead with your help, and now he’s all popular and famous... Now you’re just another pretty face he can wank to later.”

Phil thought back to the past, trying to cling to memories of Dan genuinely loving and caring about him. Their first time together at Phil’s apartment, Dan’s family being so kind to Phil, all the songs Dan had written with and about him. 

But for brief moments, Phil would let himself believe what Amanda often told him -- that Dan didn’t really give a shit about Phil, his feelings, or his ideas. He’d believe that he wasn’t the subject of those songs. That Dan only used him to get the resources he needed to get ahead, to re-establish himself in the entertainment industry after stumbling out of it as a teenager. That all Dan really wanted was to get famous with as little effort as possible, and every bit of apparent emotional closeness was a ruse to that end. But those moments were very brief.

Phil snapped himself out of these thought patterns, knowing deep down that Amanda was mistaken about Dan’s intentions. But he didn’t want her to feel unloved, of course, so he did his best to reassure her.

“Hun, I don’t think Dan is using me the way you seem to think he is. But clearly he makes you uncomfortable, so I won’t invite him over here to work anymore if it makes you feel better, okay?”

“Okay,” Amanda nodded, pouting slightly as she got into bed. “Let’s go to bed. I’m stressed.”

Phil nodded as well, silently slipped into bed next to her, and shut his eyes. She turned off her bedside lamp to darken the room, and suddenly straddled Phil.

“Wh-- Amanda, I’m sleepy,” Phil said. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?” Amanda cooed, leaning down and kissing Phil’s neck.

“I’m just not in the mood, I’m sorry.”

Amanda sat up and glared at Phil. “‘Not in the mood’?” she sneered. “What, too busy thinking about Dan?”

“That’s unfair, Amanda.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Well I  _ am _ thinking of Dan, but not in the way you’re insinuating.”

“And what am I insinuating?”

Phil wasn’t comfortable saying it out loud so he opened his mouth, thought for a moment, and exhaled. “Come on, Amanda. You know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Amanda spat. “Is it wrong of me to think you’d rather be fucking the pretty boy rock star?”

“Get off me, Amanda.”

“No! Not until you tell me. Would you rather fuck Dan than me?”

Something in Phil reached a breaking point, and he exploded. “You know what? Right now? I’d rather be fucking a disgusting tentacled alien than you. So yeah, I’d say right now Dan’s looking pretty good. Now get off me.”

Stunned, Amanda slapped Phil across the face, yielding a hiss from her husband. “Fine!” she yelled, finally getting off him and throwing her pillow at his face. “But you’re sleeping on the bloody sofa tonight!”

_ Yeah, yeah, I know, _ Phil thought but didn’t say as he marched out of the bedroom, pillow in hand, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

There weren’t any blankets out in the living room, so Phil curled himself into a fetal position on the sofa, hugging his knees. He wanted a real hug so badly. 

He shut his eyes and imagined he was in Dan’s bed at his old house. He imagined Dan was lying down behind him, comforting him the way they’d comforted each other back in the old days. Back before Dan’s first tour. Before Alice died. Before Amanda.

He wanted to cry. But he knew if he did, Amanda might hear him and stomp out of the bedroom to scold him for it. She’d tell him to stop crying, be a man, and stop working himself up. That there were plenty of other people who had it worse than he did.

And she’d be right. He wasn’t starving to death, he wasn’t poor, he wasn’t dying. So with Amanda watching him, he’d stop crying in order to keep her from being disappointed in him.

So he just held it in. There was no point in letting the tears go when she’d just force him to hold them back anyway.

 

~*~*~

 

“Wow,” Shane said. “I am so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I’m so mad at myself looking back,” Phil said, “because I genuinely didn’t realize this was abusive, you know? It was easy for me to feel like I didn’t deserve better, because… like…”

“Because you’d cheated.”

“Yeah. Because I thought I was a terrible person. I defended her saying things and doing things like that, because I knew I’d have wanted someone to defend what I had done, too.”

“But this was just how she was to you all the time! And you only cheated on her the one time, right?”

Dan stifled a laugh.

Phil looked nervous. “I uh… I wish I could say yes.”

“Oh no,” Shane said, looking at Phil pitifully.

“Don’t just look at  _ him _ like that!” Dan said to Shane. “It takes two to tango. I'm certainly not proud, but I mean... yeah. And it’s not like it was a particularly fun night. I know I barely remember it.”

“Same, to be honest,” Phil said.

“But, yeah,” Dan said. “It wasn’t right, but... we did hook up again.”

Phil fidgeted with his fingers. “Once you, like… in your head, once you feel like you’re already the scum of the earth, you don’t have as many, you know… inhibitions about continuing to be scum.”

“Yeah,” Dan added. “No qualms about just living up to that expectation.”

“Seems like we bonded over feeling like pieces of crap,” Phil said, looking at Dan.

“Well, kinda. Bonded in the physical sense, anyway.”

“Yeah, there wasn’t much conversation, was there?”

“No.”

“When did you guys hook up again?” Shane asked.

“During the American leg of the tour,” Phil said. 

“Well not really _during_ the tour,” Dan clarified. “It was just right after we arrived in New York for tech rehearsals and the first show.”

“Oh yeah,” Phil said, remembering.

“How did that happen then?” Shane asked.

  
  


*** *** *** ***

  
  


Hazel and Phil were sat across from Dan on the plane to New York, where the North American leg of the  _ Nihilism _ tour was set to begin. Phil watched Dan’s jaw clench and unclench as the altitude increased. He reached into his carry-on laptop bag and handed Dan a piece of gum, raising his eyebrows to ask if he’d like some. Dan smiled, and nodded briefly in thanks as he took the piece. Chewing the gum helped with the painful popping of his ears to a level he hadn’t quite expected. This was going to be a very long flight, so he closed his eyes, let himself enjoy the flavorful relief, and eventually fell asleep.

When Daniel awoke, his mouth tasted of nothing but saliva, the flavorless remnant of the gum tucked into his cheek. He stretched a bit before grabbing the foil wrapper and folding the gum into it. He set it aside and leaned back into his chair. Phil, directly across from him, was asleep now. The low light of the cabin softened his face and made him look so peaceful.

Daniel got out his notebook and wrote down some words.

 

_ What are you afraid of? _

_ You said you felt so alive… isn’t that a good thing? _

_ What are you doubting? _

_ Your feelings have gotten so real… but isn’t progress usually a good thing? _

 

_ Wherever I fly to doesn’t matter. The perfect nest doesn’t exist. _

_ But we’re still moving up. _

 

_ I’m floating all alone now, drifting _

_ Wondering when you’ll come back home _

_ We can’t be split apart _

_ It’s just that when we met we were young _

_ Too young. _

 

Having this chance to just stare at Phil’s sleeping form, it was like inspiration was rushing through him. He kept thinking of more words.

 

_ We do so much for those we love _

_ and for those who love us. _

_ When we first met we were so awkward. _

_ We made the same mistakes over and over, _

_ And we hurt each other… _

 

Daniel leaned his head back in his chair, looking out the window at the sky. It was night where they were, over the ocean, miles and miles from home. Between the clouds they were flying through, stars were barely visible, as though they were trying to push through the cracks in the fog. Those stars that everyone reached for except Daniel. He looked back at Phil.

 

_ With you, I finally had some understanding of what it meant to love someone. _

 

***

 

Anthony was still back in England. Not that he and Daniel were officially back together yet, but they’d hooked up multiple times and gone on several very successful dates since the start of the tour through the UK and Europe. 

Now, though, Anthony wasn’t needed for another week. On Dan’s insistence, everything was shipped to the US a week earlier than strictly necessary. He wanted to make sure everything had made it intact - the lighting rigs, the set pieces, the costumes. Phil insisted that the logistics crew Defranco Media hired were experts and that everything would fine, but the ever anxious Dan still wanted to come early and check everything personally just in case. So, since the dancers wouldn’t be here for awhile, there was no point in paying for their accommodations yet. And Anthony was literally an ocean away. Daniel gazed out his hotel room window, wondering if the direction he was facing was East or not.

Fuck, he was lonely.

Daniel reclined in the bed and let his hand lay on the empty side of it. The television was on, but he wasn’t paying any attention. He looked at the partition door separating his room from Phil’s.

He could get up at any moment and knock. Married or not, Phil would say yes to him and he knew it. Taking advantage of that would be effortless. He decided against it, acknowledging that it  would feel like cheating on Anthony, even though they weren’t official. 

He shook his head at himself, wondering why he was so worried on cheating on his not-boyfriend yet utterly unaffected by the thought of Phil cheating on his actual spouse. 

Either way, he wished he weren’t so lonely. He especially wished he weren’t so painfully desperate to sleep with the man on the other side of that partition door.

He got up and poured himself a drink. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to forget Phil or be brave enough to try to fuck him, but he knew some vodka would at least give him some comfortable answer.

Three drinks later, though, Daniel was no closer to comfort. The room tilted ever so slightly, and his eyes began to sting.

“Fuck…” he whispered to himself.

And suddenly, the universe answered for him. There was a knock on the partition door. Daniel opened it to see Phil looking tired and sad.

“I’m drunk,” he said by way of greeting.

Daniel burst into a bitter laugh. “Well, fuck,” he said with a shrug. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Can I come in? Let’s drink together. We should drink together.”

“I guess!”

Phil came in and shut the two doors behind him. When he turned around, Daniel was already sitting on the bed, his posture an absolute disaster, his face nearly as bad. Phil headed to the other side of the bed and sat next to him. They remained silent for awhile, taking sips of the drinks in their hands occasionally, staring into the distance behind the television.

Phil was the first to break the silence. “I’d ask, um… are you okay, but you’re not okay.”

“Nope,” Daniel answered.

“You miss Anthony?”

“Yeah. Kinda. I guess. I dunno. Not really.”

Phil didn’t know how to respond to that. If he were sober, he could probably have thought of something, but he wasn’t so he didn’t.

“What about you?” Daniel asked.

Phil smirked. “I don’t miss Anthony, no.”

Daniel laughed like an idiot. “No, you spoon! I mean… whatsherface. Wife person.”

“Amanda?”

“Yeah. Do you miss Amanda?”

Phil didn’t say or do anything for a moment, but eventually he almost imperceptibly shook his head. “No,” he whispered, feeling horrified at himself. The emotional wounds she’d left most recently were still fresh, and he was glad for this break from her. But surely everyone needed a break from their spouse occasionally, right?

He wondered if he’d miss her tomorrow. He realized, though, that he doubted it. Perhaps that made him the worst person on earth.

Daniel, seeing Phil’s face, felt like he was looking in a mirror. Here were two profoundly unhappy, lonely people, feeling unworthy of anything but misery. He slid his hand across the duvet until his fingertips touched Phil’s. Phil hesitated, but soon let his fingers slide between Daniel’s. They wove together so nicely, their two sets of fingers, and it felt right. It felt like home. It just... fit. It never felt like this with Amanda. Why had it never felt like this with her? All Phil wanted to do was forget that upon his return to the UK there would be a person there who actively prevented him from feeling like his own house was actually his home. He didn't belong there. His fingers didn't belong in hers. They belonged here.

“Can I kiss you?” Phil whispered, not daring to look into Daniel’s eyes yet.

“Yes,” Daniel said automatically, nodding. “Please.”

The kiss that followed was heated, but hollow. In this depressed and drunken state, Daniel and Phil were empty shells of themselves. They operated on autopilot, letting the kiss lead to more, letting the current of their fear and loneliness carry them forward into something they’d probably regret. They fucked in the hope that the physical sensations would wake them up and make them feel alive again, and that the feelings they shared for each other would make them feel whole and loved and complete again.

But it didn’t work. When they did face each other, their eyes were shut. No names were called out. Moans were muted and replaced with grunts and panting breaths. They were too drunk to hold back and savor the experience. This was a cold, empty, mechanical fuck. Nothing more.

And when Daniel awoke in the morning, Phil had gone back to his room already.

They didn’t talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the chapter references "togatta teguchi (Sharp Practice)" and "JL005-bin de (Flight JL005)" by Sheena Ringo.
> 
> The lyrics Dan writes on the plane are paraphrased from "Flight JL005", and "Dearest" & "HAPPY ENDING" by Ayumi Hamasaki.
> 
> All songs have been added to the Spotify playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/22vrarhq3udteajk2jukew4ga/playlist/0LJY6wdzBozxi6JTQzC6ve?si=EufV2_W2RAuARTU-_t1W3g).
> 
> Reblog/like the chapter on tumblr [here!](https://americanphancakes.tumblr.com/post/182773165213/the-era-of-the-wingless-angel-ch32-interview)


	33. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Given his inability to commit to Anthony, Dan's friends apply heavy peer pressure on him to ask someone else out.
> 
> tw: brief off-screen death mention at the very end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing more steadily now! Yay!
> 
> My eternal gratitude goes out to Elleberquist6 for being an EXCELLENT beta on this chapter. <3 <3 <3

Looking back, it was painfully obvious to Phil just when his doubts about  marrying Amanda began. A few months after the wedding, it was announced that, beginning in March of the following year, same-sex marriage would be legal in the UK. Upon initially hearing the news, he shrugged it off with a half-hearted hum of mild interest, but the thought wormed its way into Phil’s mind and planted itself there stubbornly.

So now, curled up on the couch once again after yet another bedtime argument with Amanda, Phil was dwelling on it.

_ If I’d just waited a bit longer. _

_ Just a few months longer. _

_ But no. I was impatient. And lonely. And afraid. And a complete idiot. _

Phil stared into space and tried to will his mind to shut off. The darkness of the night outside and the anger he was feeling made him feel colder than he already was. He wasn’t sure who he was more angry at -- Amanda for calling him a certain slur again or himself for having married someone so… well, just so  _ mean _ in the first place.

Selfishness, he thought, was a funny concept. It should stand to reason that a selfish person would do whatever benefitted themselves most. And yet, by being selfish, he had messed up his life.

He sighed and forced his eyes to shut, letting the sound of the radiator’s hum envelop him in the hope he might relax. In the next room, he could hear the mattress springs creak once as Amanda rolled over in her sleep. Phil involuntarily clenched his teeth, jealous of the softness she was no doubt sandwiched between. He opened his eyes and snapped to attention, his brow lowered angrily. Enough was officially enough, he decided as he stomped to the bedroom.

Having thought of no real plan, he hesitated for a moment before opening the door quietly and peeking inside. 

Glaring at his wife’s sleeping form, his mind began began an internal dialogue. He was about to leave to go with Dan to America for two whole months, and rather than make the most of his time at home, Amanda had shoved him out of the bedroom -- literally shoved him, hands pushing back on his shoulders -- and called him the f-word for saying Dan’s stage costumes and makeup had looked great on the tour so far. He wasn’t the type to physically push her or call her names, no. But perhaps he could, say, snatch the duvet off the bed and take it with him to a hotel room for the night where he’d be considerably more comfortable than freezing to death on the sofa again. Of course, he’d have no need for the duvet in a hotel -- in fact their beds and blankets there would no doubt be much nicer than the hideous, itchy piece of crap Amanda had brought to Phil's among her things and insisted they use -- but it was a matter of principle.

So he was going to take that duvet and run laughing into the night like a renegade schoolboy.  _ That _ would show her, surely. Phil Lester would no longer take this cruelty lying down, no sir.

With a nod and a deep breath, he flipped on the bedroom light and continued stomping until he reached the bed and swiftly pulled the duvet off his wife’s sleeping body. At the sudden change in light and temperature, she breathed in deeply through her nose and scrunched up her face. When her face turned vaguely towards the culprit, Phil couldn’t tell if her eyes were narrowed because she was glaring at him or because she was squinting. Not that he cared.

“Wh-- hey!” she exclaimed.

“I’m cold!” Phil yelled. He stomped back out of the room again, slammed the door behind him, leaving a half-asleep Amanda angry and uncomfortable but still quite dazed and disoriented. He slipped a pair of shoes onto his sockless feet, grabbed his wallet and keys, and put them in the pocket of his pajama pants. Leaving the house just as he began to hear Amanda’s voice yelling something nasty at him, he slammed the front door behind him (loudly, to make his anger known) and headed out to the car with the duvet awkwardly bundled up against his chest.

He drove past the nearest hotel, and the second nearest, landing on the third nearest just to be safe, in case Amanda tried to find him when she was more awake. Too eager to escape her wrath to be self-conscious, Phil walked up to the front desk -- sofa-induced bedhead in full force, his sockless ankles exposed and freezing, Amanda’s horrible tacky floral-patterned duvet tumbling out of his arms -- and politely asked for a single room.

It was the best he’d slept in ages.

 

***

 

A week and a half later, Dan, Chris, and Louise were sitting on Dan’s hotel room floor in New York, huddled around a pile of snacks and drinks (both alcoholic and not), giggling like teenagers. Louise had suggested the little get-together after hearing that Dan had never had a real sleepover party when he was in school, given his job and ambitions and inability to make friends easily.

“No but seriously, who?” Louise said, poking Chris. “Which one do you most fancy?”

“No but seriously  _ I can’t say _ !” Chris insisted.

“It’s Anthony, isn’t it?” Dan said with a smirk.

Chris paused, his mouth hanging open stupidly. “Okay, fine,” he finally said. “Yeah, Anthony.”

“I knew it!” Louise said, joining Dan in a fit of giggles.

“Why are you laughing?” Chris asked Dan. “Aren’t you worried I’m, like, encroaching on your territory?”

“Nah,” Dan said. “Would be kind of shit if I thought that, wouldn’t it? I mean I’m not gonna lay a claim on a guy I’m not officially dating.”

“It’s not like Anthony’s told you no,” Louise reminded him. “You’re just scared of commitment. Claiming him would be a kindness to him.”

Dan gaped at her. “Ouch, Lou,” he replied.

“You’re only offended because I’m right. Not that there’s anything wrong with your fear of commitment! You’ve got very valid reasons. I’m just saying. That fear is literally the only obstacle to you two actually being officially together again.”

“I mean there’s nothing  _ wrong _ with his fear,” Chris said. “But I don’t really get it. You’re basically together except in name. I mean, to me you guys seemed  _ very _ much like boyfriends all through Europe.”

“I mean… it’s casual, but like…” Daniel shuffled through words in his head until he could find the right ones. “Yeah, I guess the end goal is to get back together at some point, but I’m not there yet.”

“Does he know that?” Louise asked.

“Yeah,” Dan sighed, remembering the conversation he and Anthony had had recently. “We talked about it again as soon as you and the rest of the team all got to the states. Or… he talked to me about it and I still… y’know. Said no.” He frowned guiltily.

“I feel bad for him,” Chris said. “You do too, if that face is anything to go by.”

“‘Course I do. But I’m starting to learn that I need to do what’s right for me sometimes and not just, y’know, be dictated by other people’s feelings.”

“Putting something off out of fear isn’t necessarily self-care,” Louise said.

“I know…” Dan sighed and picked at the skin around his fingernails.

“Don’t do that,” Louise said, lightly swatting his hand away. “Cammy will have your head if your hands are obviously a disaster next time she does your nails.”

“Sorry,” Dan muttered. “Anyway, I guess I’m still trying to figure out, like… do I really want to be with him, or do I just not want to be alone? And I don’t really know how to tell the difference yet.”

Chris nodded, understanding but having no real advice or input.

“How much work are you putting into figuring it out, though?” Louise asked. “Like, who have you asked for advice? Have you read any books on what healthy relationships should look like?”

“It’s not a fucking university dissertation,” Dan said incredulously. “It’s… feelings. I feel like if I over-science the whole thing I’ll just be overthinking it and I’ll fuck it up even worse.”

“You’re a bloody child,” Louise said, annoyed but mostly amused.

Dan snickered in spite of himself. “Wasn’t that the whole point of this sleepover?”

Louise sighed theatrically. “I suppose you’re right! Guess that means you have to tell us which dancer or band member you fancy most. And you can’t say Anthony! That’s a cop-out.”

“Ugh,  _ fine, _ ” Dan scoffed. “Well, to be honest, I… do rather fancy Midori.”

“The one who plays your mum?” Louise said. “Yikes, a lot to unpack there!”

Chris laughed.

“She doesn’t play my  _ mum,” _ Dan said. “She plays a toy music box ballerina who  _ represents _ my mum.”

“So she plays your mum,” Chris said.

“ _ Your _ mum,” Dan snarked, tossing a piece of popcorn at Chris’s forehead.

“It’s a tiny bit weird,” Louise said, “but you know, I can see it. She’s definitely your type. Black hair, delicate frame, quite pretty.”

“I see what you did there,” Dan said. “Don’t think I don’t.”

“Yeah mate, you do have a type,” Chris noted. “‘S weird, Anthony doesn’t really fit that type at all, does he?”

“Yeah, he’s not the type I usually find attractive,” Dan said. “For one, he looks like me, and I think I’m an ugly little troll.”

“You’re not an ugly anything, Dan,” Louise said, shaking her head.

“Seriously,” Chris said. “I’d kill to look like you.”

Dan pouted theatrically. “Noooooo,” he howled. “No killing! Especially not to just make a clone of this ugly mug.”

“Oh stop that,” Louise said. “Anyway, you should ask out Midori. She might fancy you, you never know.”

“I can’t though,” he said, widening his eyes for emphasis. “Like I really  _ actually _ can’t.”

“Why not?” Chris asked.

“Well like…” Dan started, but then stopped himself. “You guys are gonna think it’s so stupid.”

“No, what is it?” Louise asked.

“It’s just that... Bisexuality is still really, like… kind of weird to people. Like, okay, like… if I get a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend, I’ll like… lose my gay credibility. You know? And like… that’s really important for so many of my fans, that I’m ‘gay’.”

“But it’s the LG _ B _ TQ-plus community, right?” Louise asked, putting emphasis on the B. “What do they think the B stands for?”

“It’s not that simple,” Dan whined. “Like, yeah there’s the B there, but they don’t always accept the B’s if the B’s can pretend to be, like… S’s.”

“What?” Chris asked.

“Straights.” Louise clarified.    
  
Chris nodded an understanding “ah” her way.

“See, Lou gets it. If I can ‘pass as straight,’ then to a lot of people I wouldn’t be LGBTQ-plus enough. I wouldn’t be one of them anymore. And I like being one of them. I like feeling like I belong somewhere. Even if it isn’t like a physical home and even if I don’t know everyone in the community, I still feel like I’m part of something that matters. And I don’t wanna give that up.”

Louise reclined on her side, propping her head up on her hand, her elbow on the ground. “You know what I think, little bug?”

“What?”

“I think… there are a lot of bisexual kids out there… and adults, too, who feel like you do. Like they found the community and they felt like they belonged when they found it, yeah? But they’re worried that if they aren’t gay enough, then they don’t count. But bisexuality is a real thing, and it’s valid, and maybe they just need a model for it? Being in a heterosexual relationship doesn’t mean you’re heterosexual. It just means that your current significant other, right now, is a different gender than you. It doesn’t mean your relationships with guys like Anthony were ‘fake’ or ‘just a phase’ or anything. Maybe you could be the famous person who shows everyone that.”

Dan sighed and let his head drop. “I don’t know if I want that responsibility. Besides, I mean, we’re talking like Midori is this great love I might be missing out on. I just think she’s pretty, that’s all.”

“But what if she  _ is _ some great love you’re missing out on?” Chris said, sparing no theatricality. “What if she is the one and you never find out because you let other people’s perception of your sexuality dictate your behaviour?”

“Yeah!” Louise said.

Dan looked at Chris, then Louise, and back again. “I absolutely despise you both.”

“Dan,” Louise said plainly, looking him square in the eye, “I think you need to ask Midori out for coffee.”

“Ooh! You should ask in Japanese!” Chris suggested. “That would be so cute!”

“I know like five words in Japanese,” Dan said. “Coming from me it would probably just seem racist.”

“But you didn’t refuse to ask her, did you?” Chris said slyly.

“Fuck you.”

 

***

 

Dan always found it frustrating when people pressured him into being romantically interested in someone else. Not because they were pushing feelings onto him that didn’t exist at all; on the contrary, there were always these tiny seedlings of feelings inside him, being fed by their prodding. That was what made it so frustrating. A tiny glimmer of interest was manageable. But once someone put it into Daniel’s mind that there was potential for something more, the person of interest suddenly glowed so brightly it made him uneasy.

Midori had always been graceful. Now, she was like a goddess. She’d always had a cute smile, but now that same smile made his insides do backflips. His eyes suddenly got stuck on hers during rehearsal much more often and for much longer.

None of this had been the case only yesterday. This was all Louise and Chris’s fault and he swore he’d punch them both in the face at the nearest opportunity.

“God damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

 

***

 

That evening, Dan nervously knocked on the door of the hotel room Midori shared with two of the other dancers. Luckily for him, Midori answered, now dressed very casually and not in the loose athletic wear she’d practiced in. Her newly-washed hair was still pulled back in a high ponytail, allowing her cute but mature face to show itself. She smiled.

“Hello,” she said sweetly, her tongue curling around the L sound.

“Hello,” Dan said nervously, with a smile. “Erm…  _ boku to issho ni… k--koohii ni… iki...ma...shou? Ka?  _ (Together with me, shall we… go to... c-coffee?)” 

Midori giggled. Not in a way that was making fun of Dan’s incredibly broken Japanese, but in a way that seemed delighted and charmed by his attempt.

“Sorry,” Dan said. “Was that absolutely terrible?”

“No!” Midori insisted, smiling brightly. “I could understand you. Your Japanese is fine.”

Dan knew she was just being polite, but it was nice to hear anyway. “So… erm. Would you? Like to get coffee with me?”

Midori answered in Japanese, but spoke slowly for Dan’s benefit. “ _ Futari dake na no? _ (Would it be just us two?)”

Dan took a second to translate inside his head before answering in the affirmative. “ _ Hai. _ ”

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “ _ Deeto desu ka? _ (Is it a date?)”

“Ah… I um… Yeah, if… if that’s okay with you.”

Midori’s face softened and lit up like fireworks. “ _ Maji de…? _ (No way, seriously?)”

“Yes… Um…  _ hai. _ ”

Midori giggled again, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “Thank you. Yes. I would love to!”

 

***

 

Dan’s first coffee date with Midori was delightful. She was good-natured, optimistic, imaginative, and radiant in every possible way. He’d found her pretty in a casual way, sure, but he never dreamed she’d have a personality that made her more beautiful the longer he was around her. To say he looked forward to the second date was an understatement.

The second date was delightful too, at least at the time. Daniel had grown comfortable with Midori, and was more inclined to be physically affectionate. He thought nothing of all the small touches and hugs and hand-holding. Midori elevated it to playful nuzzles and cheek kisses.    
  
When she came with him to his hotel room, sex was a natural consequence of the innocent foreplay they’d engaged in all evening. And it was the best sex Daniel had had in ages, probably in part because the novelty of making love to a woman for the first time in years made it more interesting, but also in part because Midori had a sort of  _ joie de vivre _ and live-in-the-moment attitude that came out even in bed.

The next morning, however, that second date suddenly became much less fun.

Daniel awoke to his phone having blown up. Phone calls and texts from Phil, Hazel, Jimmy the label PR guy, Louise, Chris, Anthony, and even Daniel’s mother had flooded his notifications. He skimmed over the texts, but they only served to confirm what he already suspected.

Dan and Midori had been seen. And the reaction was generally not a positive one, at least in mainstream media and some LGBTQ+ community-aimed news sites.

Seemingly sensing his tension, Midori inhaled and rolled over. Her eyes fluttered open and she began to give a gentle smile which faltered upon seeing Daniel’s face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Daniel swallowed. He hesitated before looking at her. “I--”

_ Bang bang bang. _

Daniel gasped and stood up, grabbing a robe from the bathroom door and slipping it on as he approached the hotel room door. His hand hovered over the handle. “Who is it?” he called.

“It’s me and Lou,” Phil’s voice replied.

“Jesus,” Dan mumbled under his breath.  _ Both of them. _ “Alright, hang on,” he called back. He turned around to see Midori, who was still in bed, holding a sheet over her chest. “Put some clothes on, hurry!” he said in a loud whisper. Midori nodded and gathered up her clothes, ducking into the large closet where she could hide while dressing herself.

Once she was safely out of sight, Dan opened the door to see Louise and Phil. Louise had a bag on her shoulder and Phil had brought his laptop.

“What’s with the gear?” Dan asked, letting the duo inside and closing the door behind them.

Louise gestured to the bag. “I’ve got a disguise in here so I can smuggle Midori out of your room. If she’s still here.”

“Yes, still here!” Midori called from the closet. “One minute.”

“And I brought the laptop so we can pretend I came here for work.”

“Wait,” Dan asked, blinking. “Why’s Midori got to be smuggled out of my room?”

Louise shook her head. “This is outside of my area. Mr. Lester, you tell him.”

“There are paps hiding around corners on this floor, waiting for you and your secret heterosexual shame to emerge.”

Dan, more stunned than he probably should have been, plopped down onto the edge of the sofa. “Fuck me,” he muttered, exasperated.

“I’m assuming you haven’t seen social media since last night,” Phil continued.

“I only saw everyone’s texts,” Daniel answered. “Give it to me straight, doc — how bad is it?”

Phil sighed. “Well, I mean… headlines are not spinning this positively. The word ‘traitor’ may have come up once or twice.”

Daniel didn’t even have the energy to hang his head. “‘Kay,” he said simply, his voice quiet and fearful.

“I”m really sorry, Dan,” Louise said regretfully. “You told me this would happen, and…”

“It’s fine, Louise. I wouldn’t have asked her out if I didn’t want to.”

“Still.”

“Don’t feel bad, Lou. Please. It’s not your fault.”

Midori, however, had since emerged and was listening. “‘Traitor,’ huh?” she said. She took a few timid steps his way, ready to confront the problem head-on and end this before it could get any worse.

Daniel stood and faced her. “I’m definitely not ashamed of you, Midorin,” he said sweetly, adding the “n” sound to the end of her name affectionately. Blocking out the rest of the world, including the other two occupants of the room, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I don’t care if they call me a traitor. I know I’m not one.” He took both Midori’s hands in his and looked down into her dark eyes, which were devoid of the sparkle they usually carried. He gazed at her with love and desperation as she gazed at him with regret and a silent apology.

She shook her head. Daniel’s eyes glistened and he gave a bitter smile, his last ditch effort at asking her to stay with him.

Phil, seeing the affection between them, looked away from them. He wasn’t sure what hurt more -- seeing Dan look at someone else with this much love, or seeing him suffer through a breakup right in front of him. Everything about this hurt.

“I don’t want the media saying things about you,” Midori replied. “I don’t want them misunderstanding you.”

“I can get used to the press saying things,” Daniel insisted. “I have PR people now, they can help with this. It’ll be fine. We… we’ll be fine.”

Midori didn’t reply.

“Right?” Daniel pleaded, his voice breaking. A tear slid down his cheek and he sniffled. Midori’s face reddened and her eyes filled with tears as well. She shook her head one more time.

“I’ll see you at soundcheck,” Midori whispered. Dan sniffled again, nodded reluctantly, kissed her hand, and let her go.

“Come on, Midori,” Lou said, guiding her toward the door and handing her a hair tie, baseball cap, sunglasses, and a very oversized hoodie so it wouldn’t be obvious she was still wearing the same thing she’d been wearing the night before. Soon enough, Midori was dressed, giving Daniel a final encouraging smile, and leaving the room.

Daniel stood frozen in place, reeling from everything that had happened over the last 12 hours. He stared at the door unmoving for a moment before Phil broke the silence.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Shush,” Daniel hissed, holding up a finger and trying to breathe while he collected his thoughts and finally created a summary of the morning that made sense.

His relationship with Midori, if you could even call it that, hadn’t been long. Two dates. One night together. That was it. But that was all it took.

That was all it took for a small but vocal segment of Dan’s gay fanbase to decide he’d betrayed them. That was all it took for that vocal segment to convince another large chunk of that fanbase that he was a liar.

But that was also all it took for Daniel to feel like it was possible for him to get over Phil. Plus, he’d nearly forgotten Anthony even existed. For once, Daniel had become convinced that maybe he could have that same near-psychic connection with someone else, and that someone who loved being alive and brought him joy might love him back.

He’d never understood the phrase “whirlwind romance” before, but he did now. It blew in unexpectedly and violently like a tornado, and exited just as quickly, leaving him reeling in the aftermath.

He felt silly. He felt oddly guilty and sick that he let anyone affect him so much so quickly. And it was someone he hadn’t even seen as date material at first.

That hadn’t happened since he was 18 years old.

Daniel looked at Phil.

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Dan asked.

Despite not knowing what Dan was referring to specifically, Phil shook his head without hesitation. “No.”

“I think…” Daniel began, his voice quiet. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I think I’m… going to throw up.”

Phil nodded and dashed to the bathroom to grab the bin there. He silently scolded himself for not being prepared for this, since Dan’s typical response to anxiety of this level was nausea, but luckily he made it to Dan in time.

 

***

 

“You going to be okay for soundcheck?” Phil asked, stroking Dan’s hair.

Dan had vomited and cried and ranted about the press and social media for about an hour before it was all out of his system. Phil had laid down with him on the bed, and they were facing each other now. The color was gone from Dan’s face, the life drained from his still-wet eyes. Snotty tissues littered the floor. And Phil refused to move until Dan was okay.

In response to Phil’s query, Dan shrugged.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay?”

Dan nodded. “Okay,” he said and sniffled.

Phil got up and grabbed a bottle of water out of the minibar. He walked up to Dan, twisting the cap open. “Here,” he said. “Sit up, okay?”

Dan reluctantly nodded and sat up against the pillows and headboard. Phil handed him the water and sat down on the bed next to him.

“Tiny sips,” Phil reminded him.

Dan gave the most miniscule hint of a smile and narrowed his eyes at Phil. “Thanks, mum.”

Phil smiled back at him. “Making jokes! That’s very good to see.”

Dan sipped the water -- tiny sips, as instructed -- and then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He took a breath. “I think I was  _ actually _ falling in love with her,” he admitted, barely believing it himself.

Through all his venting and ranting, he hadn’t yet mentioned Midori herself. Phil stayed quiet, listening intently.

“I feel so stupid for letting that happen,” Daniel continued. “It’s stupid, you know? Falling for someone so quickly. After two dates, you barely know a person. Or you  _ should _ barely know them. But I just felt so in sync with her in so many ways. And in all the ways we weren’t basically psychically linked, it was like… she lifted me up. Made me better. Made me happier. Made me see beauty in things I didn’t normally. Including myself.”

Phil’s stomach lurched at the familiarity of those words. He nodded. “I know the feeling,” he said quietly.

“I can’t help but wonder how things would have panned out. You know? Would she and I have gotten married, had babies or something? Who knows. Whatever.” He sighed.

“But in order for it to pan out, you’d have to not be in the public eye. And if you weren’t a famous singer, you might never have met.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You should be thankful you had something so nice for awhile, even if it was temporary.”

Daniel scrunched up his face, remembering something similar his grandmother said to him once. “Yeah.”

Phil took hold of Dan’s hand and absentmindedly rubbed his thumb across it. Daniel looked down at it and suddenly felt more relaxed.

They sat like that for awhile in comfortable silence, each of them staring into space in front of them. Soon their breathing was calmer and in sync, and Daniel felt like he was somewhere on the positive side of neutral.

“Part of me felt like I was cheating on you the whole time,” Dan said, nearly whispering. He closed his eyes, squeezing out a lingering tear that needed the push to escape.

Phil wove his fingers in between Dan’s. “Fair enough. Part of  _ me _ feels like I’m cheating on you all the time.”

“Yeah well.  _ All _ of me feels like you are.”

Phil swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Phil waited for Dan to say it was okay or that he was sorry too, but he didn’t. And Phil supposed that was justifiable, but it still hurt.

 

***

 

Dan already knew he’d sold out his New York concert, but to actually see the arena completely full with his own eyes was even more astonishing than seeing the crowds outside his very first show in London. The feeling was the same -- disbelief, honor, fear, delight, and awe all rolled into one -- but more. Bigger. This was more unbelievable, more amazing, more everything.

His favorite part of the show was, as always, the encore segment. It was Daniel James Howell and his piano on the stage, and nothing else. No band, no dancers. Just him and his music and the crowd.

He sat on the piano bench, tapping at the keyboard more or less automatically as he addressed the audience.

“Sometimes writing a song takes a very long time. It’s not ready and then it’s not ready and then it’s not ready... And then eventually it just feels  _ right. _ Like, now’s the time to play it. You know?”

The crowd politely clapped in response. Someone yelled “I love you!” at the top of their lungs.

“Thank you, I love you too!” Dan replied with a shy giggle. He never got used to that sort of thing. “So this next song… I started writing it a very long time ago. When I was a teenager, before I was even a singer actually. I guess it started as a poem or something. But it was never ready. It wasn’t done cooking yet, I suppose. And then today, for  _ some _ reason… For some reason, after I added a few lines and finally gave it a title, it jumped up off the bench inside my mind and was like ‘I can do it coach! Put me out there! Now’s my time to shine!’ or whatever.”

Indeed, the song’s first lyrical roots were written in Daniel’s notebook when he realized he had a crush on a boy for the first time. He wrote more words after meeting and falling in love with Phil. Some of those notes found a place within the lyrics to “Gamble” and “Monochrome,” but others remained unused until today, just before soundcheck.

He poked at a few more keys. “...I don’t even  _ get _ sports, what is this metaphor?” He chuckled into the mic and the audience laughed and clapped with him. “So yeah… I literally was working on the words to this one  _ this afternoon _ . So when I say this is brand new, I mean… I am  _ incredibly _ nervous about playing this. This is my new baby and I don’t want the neighbourhood children to be mean to her. So be nice. Be nice while I continue to mix metaphors talking about this song.” He laughed again. He had to laugh to mitigate his own tension, and he had to keep playing random notes on the piano to hide how badly his hands were shaking. 

And the audience could see it. They cheered to encourage him, excited to hear a new song but also worried about how anxious he clearly was. He smiled at them.

“Nervous as I am, I knew I wanted to get this song out there as quickly as I could. So… Luckily, during this part of the show… it’s just me, and I can play whatever the hell I want.” He shot the audience a shit-eating grin as they exploded with cheers, proud that he was facing his fear of playing the song.

“This song is called ‘Green’.”

He transitioned his random key-tickling into a melody that started delicately -- timid, fearful, lonely. Then, when it ramped up in intensity, the lead right-hand melody turned complex and feverish, the left-hand accompaniment loud and dark. He calmed the piano again and began singing the song’s common time verse over the 6/8 time piano. It was one of his more complex compositions, for sure, but such complexity seemed appropriate considering the manifold inspiration for the song.

 

_ “Oh, trees, I know just how you feel  
_ _ Standing where you are means you can’t run and hide  
_ __ Casting off your colours is the only choice that you have.”

 

The piano’s intensity returned for a few bars between sections of the first verse, and then calmed to give Dan’s voice room again.

 

_ “Maybe it’s the same for me  
_ _ When I fear the warmth of someone I could love  
_ __ I turn away from all the colour that might bring me joy.”

 

Without a pause, Dan switched chord progressions for the pre-chorus bridge.

 

_ “I look in your eyes, and you smile at me  
_ _ But I don’t deserve all the kindness that I see  
_ _ I feel it as my armor breaks like glass  
_ __ I feel it as tears suddenly stain my face…”

 

For one bar, Dan played one note at a time. So when he slammed on the piano keys again and his voice rang out with the now straight 6/8 melody finally aligning cleanly with the piano, the audience got tingles.

 

_ “My fingertips running across your skin,  
_ _ And my emotions pouring out of them was  
_ _ The only thing I needed to understand  
_ __ All I needed to realize it was love.”

 

The piano calmed down again for the second verse. These words were the most important to Dan. To him, these next lines summed up the entire point of the song, and he hoped all his fans -- regardless of gender or sexual orientation or even religion, social or financial class, career path, or interests -- would latch onto it and understand what he was trying to say.

 

_ “Why does it have to be like this?  
_ _ When a human heart shows a path we can take  
_ _ Why can’t we walk the way we want,   
_ __ Standing by whoever we choose?”

 

The piano ramped up for the second pre-chorus bridge again.

 

_ “It may have been years since I asked myself,  
_ _ But gradually I’ve learned the terrible answer  
_ _ And all I can do is turn my eyes away  
_ __ The truth is unfair, so the question remains…”

 

The second chorus had different lyrics from the first, as was common for him. But he made sure the mathematical precision of the vocals matching the rhythm of the piano was still present and just as clean feeling. The whole idea was for the chorus to be where things lock into place emotionally, so they did so musically as well.

 

_ “My eyes are running down your silhouette,  
_ _ And my emotions are all inside of me.  
_ _ One day the trees will have their colour back  
_ __ When the wind changes, you’ll know of my love.”

 

He improvised an impassioned piano solo for the instrumental bridge before repeating both choruses. He finished the second chorus with a high note to punctuate the resolve his song’s protagonist felt in that moment, but the outro would recall the song’s beginning and cast doubt on that resolve with its more tentative melody.

 

_ “Oh, trees, I know just how you feel  
_ _ Standing where you are means you don’t have to hide  
_ __ Someday when green returns to my leaves, I hope I can smile.”

 

***

 

“I have to quit,” Midori said before even a “hello.”

Stunned, still standing in front of his hotel room door with his robe on, Daniel stammered. “What? S-sorry, come in.”

He motioned her inside and they sat across from each other, her on the sofa and him on the task chair in front of the desk.

“That new song… it was amazing,” Midori explained, “But…”

Dan breathed in. “You saw what I did.”

“Of course I did,” Midori sighed, slightly irritated. “It might fly over everyone else’s head, but… Come on, Dan. I know my own name.”

_ Midori. _ Green.

Dan nodded.

“And if that’s how you feel,” she continued, “I can’t stay. You know that.”

“I mean… it wasn’t  _ only _ about you,” Dan said desperately.

Midori smiled in a sort of pitying way. Maybe that was true, in fact she hoped it was. But there was no way she was going to completely believe it. Dan simply looked away, embarrassed.

“It’s probably your best work, to be honest.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope people understand it.”

Dan shrugged. She didn’t, so he had no such hope. But she found her own meaning in it, so maybe others would too. That was the best he could really hope for as an artist.

She stood up, walking towards the door.

“What are you going to do?” Dan asked.

“I um… I think I’m going to go back to Japan. One of my old friends is a singer, she tours every spring… she always said I was welcome to join her.”

“Good,” Dan said, genuinely glad she wasn’t going to go without a job if she left.

“If you’re ever in Japan…” she said, trailing off.

Dan nodded and smiled sadly.

 

***

 

“I’m really sorry, mate.” Chris said.

Daniel didn’t reply.

“D’you want some more chocolate?”

Daniel nodded.

Chris handed Daniel one of the Cadbury bars he’d managed to find at a local drug store.

“Everything sucks,” Dan mumbled, chocolate still in his mouth.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Chris said playfully.

“D’you think I’ll ever get over this?” Daniel continued after swallowing the bite.

“‘Course you will.”

“Why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“Take it from someone older… you will. Life has enough of its own problems to serve up without your love life being one of them. This hurts now. It hurts so badly. But it’s not the great tragedy it seems like it is. Not in the grand scheme. This’ll be an experience you learned from just like everything else. You’ll be okay.”

“What about all the fans who hate me now?”

“They don’t hate you. No one who bought their ticket to the show last night decided to stay home. I’ve been looking online and there are a few voices of reason defending your sexuality. Some of them are even winning. Lots of bi and pan people are basically rejoicing that you were seen out with a girl. It made them feel validated.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Not just saying that because Lou was hoping for it, either.”

“Well that’s good.”

“Yeah. The smoke ain’t lifted yet, but it’ll clear soon enough. Just focus on the tour for now, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Chris smiled and gave Daniel a supportive kiss on the forehead. “Alright. Now hurry and finish eating. You still need to get your shit packed up, and the tour bus leaves this afternoon.”

“It’s not even a two hour drive to Philadelphia though,” Daniel whined. “Why do I have to hurry?”

“You lack discipline, young padawan.”

“Shut up,” Daniel said, hitting Chris with a pillow.

 

***

 

In his hotel in Philadelphia, Daniel awoke in a cold sweat, the sky still pitch black. He looked at his phone. 3:00 AM. He couldn’t recall what he dreamed about, but he knew it wasn’t good. The feeling transcended a mere “bad dream,” though. Something felt… wrong.

He sighed and tried to calm his racing heart. He needed his sleep. He still had another day before his show here and he really needed rest. He hoped he could sleep in after this disturbance.

But a mere two hours later, Daniel James Howell received a phone call from a hospital in Cardiff, where one Terrence Howell had been pronounced dead of a heart attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Japanese is only so-so to be honest. lol
> 
> The chapter title & Dan's song refer to "GREEN" by Ayumi Hamasaki. The lyrics are paraphrased but the general idea is the same. Also I HIGHLY recommend the video you guys seriously have no idea how great this video is (also it co-stars the real dancer I named Midori after). It's been added to the YouTube playlist for the story, and the song is on the Spotify playlist. :D
> 
> STORY PLAYLIST LINKS  
> \--------------------------  
> [YouTube Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLNGF7u_238PUGn-eYj-JLNetqW3cLXtWl)  
> [Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/22vrarhq3udteajk2jukew4ga/playlist/0LJY6wdzBozxi6JTQzC6ve?si=TTdoA0ufRYCtGa6UGuHVAw)


	34. Memorial address

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel Howell is going through a lot, but for some reason the tears just won't come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many apologies for how long this chapter took - I started a new job recently and I am exhausted a good deal of the time. Hopefully this won't last.
> 
> Of course, thanks beyond measure for elleberquist6 who is the most patient beta on earth. I apologize for how much I had to spoil, thank you for still being excited. :)
> 
> tw: mentions of death, biphobia, a bleeped-out gay slur, and racist comment from a hater that isn't technically a slur itself but it's a seriously crappy thing to say.

Laying on his side, head still on his pillow, Daniel reached for his phone and called his mother. Because there’s simply no one else to call in times like these. He put it on speakerphone and set it back on the bedside table, not sitting up. It rang once.

“Hello?” Marina said.

Omitting any proper greeting, Daniel’s lifeless voice asked the question he had called to ask. “Was his name Terrence?”

Surprised by the question, Marina didn’t speak for a moment. Daniel heard her take a breath.

“Mum, please,” he pleaded in a scratchy, exhausted voice.

She finally replied, hesitant, as it slowly dawned on her why Daniel would be asking this, how he must have learned his father’s name, and why he’d referred to him in past tense. “I, erm… I called him Terry.” She was quiet, then made a quick breathy sound that Daniel wasn’t sure was laughing or crying. “He hated it. He said it made him sound like a bath towel.” She chuckled. Definitely a chuckle. But there was sadness in it. Daniel chuckled with her.  _ Terry Howell. _ A perfectly normal name, but he could see his Dad’s point.

Not that he’d ever be able to joke with him about it. Not anymore.

Daniel’s face relaxed back to its neutral position. He spoke matter-of-factly. “He’s dead, Mum.”

“I thought maybe.”

They sat on the call silently. Daniel watched as the call length counted up on his phone screen. It had only been 24 seconds, but it felt like so much longer he wasn’t sure he could trust that counter. 25 seconds. 26. 27.

“Are you okay?” Marina finally asked, just as the time flipped from 29 seconds to 30.

“I don’t know,” Daniel replied.

“That’s understandable.”

They paused for a beat while Daniel gathered his thoughts and Marina waited patiently to hear them. The truth was, Daniel didn’t feel sad. He felt cheated, without knowing out of what. It was like an unpleasant itch crawling from his brain to his heart and back again and he hated it.

“I wish I missed him,” he finally said. “I wish… I wish I could remember him well enough to properly miss him.”

“You would miss him,” she said. “He was a very special sort of person.” Marina sighed, trying to stave off tears from the sound of it. Daniel found that curious. “I know I never talk about him. The heartbreak of him leaving was so much, but… I should have worked harder to be able to tell you about him. He was really…”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes I do,” she interrupted. She paused to collect herself.

As soon as she spoke again, Daniel tensed up excitedly. He wouldn’t know much, but he’d know something.

“When you were born,” she began, “he was so scared, but he kept it together so well. Looking back later, I was amazed. I was sort of floating through the whole experience. I was terrified of course, but… I got some nasty postnatal depression because I felt rejected as a mother since you weren’t eating properly, and I was sure we were going to lose you, so I just shut down. But your dad… it was like he used his fear of losing you as the fuel to take care of us. He talked to the doctors when I couldn’t, which was most of the time. When I was sad he’d sit with me and listen if I was lucid enough to cry and rant about how everything was awful. He tried to keep my mind off you when you were in surgery and all I could do was wait. He was as scared as I was, I’m sure, but he kept it together. He’s— he was such a strong person. Once you were home safe and as healthy as you could be, he did more of the bonding with you than I did. The depression was so bad, I… looking back I pushed you away. Maybe I was scared of losing you. I wanted to detach just in case.”

Daniel gave an ironic chuckle and shook his head. Pushing loved ones away out of fear of losing them sure sounded familiar. It was fascinating to learn that he and his mother had this bad habit in common. It was, amusingly, a tie that held them together. He found some comfort in that.

“He really doted on you. He doted on you so much. Right up until the day he left.” Marina sniffled. “You were his best friend and he was yours.”

“I don’t understand though…” Daniel said thoughtfully. He wasn’t accusing his dad of anything, but he was confused. “If you were depressed, why would he leave you? You needed him.”

“The depression had passed by the time he left. I think that... he was honest with me as soon as he knew I was okay and could take it. He did what was best for himself. I guess.”

Daniel was relieved to know that his apparent best friend wasn’t completely inconsiderate, but it still angered him. He wished he could understand why his father would sacrifice everything, and risk hurting his mother, and abandon a son he was so close to. He wondered if he’d ever understand.

“I’m sorry for never being ready to talk about him,” Marina continued. “I know I didn’t prioritize it enough. I guess I always figured you’d find him yourself someday and, you know, meet up with him, talk bad about me behind my back probably.” She chuckled again. There was something heartbreaking about her tone, like she was joking but had always secretly worried it would actually happen.

Daniel smiled sadly. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I should have worked through this in therapy years ago.” 

Daniel couldn’t deny that. But he couldn’t hold it against her without feeling like a hypocrite. He certainly had plenty of issues that only therapy could help with at this point, and that wasn’t exactly motivating him to go.

“It’s not that I’m keeping secrets or anything,” Marina continued. “It’s just… it was just so unexpected, when he said he didn’t love me. He wanted to be friends, you know? I could see in his eyes that he was honest about that. I just couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to look at him.”

Daniel wanted so badly to ask more questions. He wanted to know everything. What happened? Why did he leave? Was there a fight? Did he love someone else? Did he just have a nervous breakdown and develop a desperate need to own a car he couldn’t afford, find some gorgeous blonde twentysomething with fake tits, and move away to an island off the coast of Greece?

But as much as he wanted to ask for details, he could hear the tension in Marina’s voice increase rather than decrease the longer she spoke about Terrence, and he didn’t want her already tautly drawn emotional thread to snap. So he resolved not to push for now. Maybe someday. But not today.

“I’m so sorry, Mum.”

“No need to apologize, little angel. He broke my heart, but he really was a lovely person.”

“‘Angel’?” Daniel noted, smiling. “You never call me that.”

“Well… Terry and Mum aren’t around. Someone ought to.”

Daniel thought of Phil and sighed.  _ Yeah, _ he thought.  _ You’re right about that. _

 

***

 

Daniel looked at social media again. Whether this was cathartic or damaging, he had no idea. He’d read somewhere that looking at negative comments online could be a form of self-harm for some people, but he’d also read that facing your fears was the best way to conquer them. So he couldn’t tell if he was picking at old wounds or poking fresh bruises to help them heal.

That was probably because he was far too exhausted by the emotional overload to feel anything, to be honest. The loss of Midori, the loss of the father he never knew but had one day hoped to, the ever-present bad mood brought on by Phil’s betrayal, an inability to commit to Anthony, and the slowly mending relationship with his mother had his conflicted heart bouncing around all over the place.

He couldn’t really blame it for taking a holiday.

And thus, the new year was upon him, and he felt nothing. No sense of renewal, no sense of ambition, no excitement. 2014. Just another number. Just another moment closer to inevitable death. It made no difference.

_ “I’m really upset by this! Dan Howell with… a girl?!?” _

_ “I thought I had a gay hero to look up to but it turns out he isn’t even really gay. He could always just be with a girl and not get rocks thrown at him, not get bullied, not get kicked out of his own home. Lucky sonofabitch. He can go fuck himself.” _

_ “You guys, Dan is B I S E X U A L. It’s a thing you know. We belong in the queer community too.” _

_ “No you fucking don’t, you’re just a straight girl kissing other girls for attention. Gtfo.” _

_ “Bisexuals are usually gay guys who are too scared to come out, right? Dan was just exploring how the other half lives. Leave him alone.” _

Daniel’s heart clenched in his chest, desperately wanting to push the sadness it held out through his tear ducts, but he didn’t have the energy to help that push along. He just sat there and took the abuse from these anonymous people, reading every last message.

_ “He’s just a f****t with yellow fever _ ” one person on twitter said. Daniel was surprised when he actually felt angry by that one; less surprising was that he was angry on Midori’s behalf, not his own. He so badly wanted to tweet back a reply daring that person to say that again to his face. But he also didn’t want to do that at all. He didn’t want to do anything. So he kept scrolling.

_ “Disappointed that the queer community has lost such a legend… No, Dan Howell isn’t dead, he’s just dead to me.” _

_ “DAN HOWELL IS A FUCKING TRAITOR AND HE CAN SUCK MY DICK OH NO NEVERMIND HE WOULDN’T BE INTO THAT APPARENTLY” _

_ “Aw yeah Dan Howell is straight now?? Sweet that means i have a chance!” _

Occasionally he’d see a tweet that said something like  _ “Have we just forgotten that bisexuality is a thing? #danhowell #bi #representation” _ but those were few and far between. Not that he could internalize any real relief from them anyway. Despite that, he was grateful for them. He felt a little less alone in this PR disaster every time he saw one. For a moment, he considered saving screenshots of these positive and supportive tweets, but he didn’t feel the motivation to follow through. He sighed, disappointed in himself.

_ Knock knock knock. _

Not expecting anyone, Dan sighed and sat up straight. He put on his most pleasant face and opened the door.

“Hey, Daniel.”

“Anthony.” Daniel sighed happily, relieved to see his… something. Anthony was definitely something. He let him in, closing the door behind him. Anthony sat on the sofa, and Dan sat in the task chair to face him.

“How’ve you been?”

“Good, good,” Dan lied, still kind of in work mode and trying not to be a burden, as he tended to do.

Anthony tilted his head and gave Daniel a look.

Daniel relaxed, letting the facade fall away. “I’ve been better.”

“I don’t, uh… I don’t think you’re straight now. For the record.”

“I should hope not,” Daniel laughed bitterly. “You’ve done some very thorough firsthand research into that.”

Anthony smiled sweetly, his warmth disarming Daniel almost completely.

“Did she make you happy?” Anthony asked, very sincerely.

“I… I don’t want you to ask me that if it’s, like… a jealousy thing, or if--”

“No no no!” Anthony said quickly. “I promise. I’m asking because… if you’re gonna have to deal with all this bullshit, then, like… I guess I just… hope it’s not for nothing. You know?”

Daniel nodded to indicate his understanding. He steeled himself for Anthony’s reaction before replying. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah she made me really happy. It, um… I’m not gonna lie, losing her… really hurt.”

Anthony nodded. “You’re, like… holding up sort of okay, looks like.”

Daniel shook his head. “Not really.”

Anthony had known Daniel James Howell long enough to know that as long as Dan displayed some emotion, then the sadness was manageable and would pass. This type of depression, this cold mask of emotionlessness, was far harder for Daniel to break free from. “That bad, huh?”

Daniel nodded.

“C’mere.” Anthony patted the sofa next to him, scooting over closer to one armrest to give Daniel some room.

Daniel looked at the empty space, then at Anthony.

“Come on!” Anthony urged, reclining a bit.

Daniel reluctantly stood and made his way to the sofa, resting his head on Anthony’s chest and curling himself up close to his lap. Anthony began stroking Daniel’s hair gently. It was something his father used to do, too; one of the few things Daniel could remember about his father. They’d be on the sofa, watching cartoons, and his dad --  _ Terrence, _ Daniel tried to keep in mind -- would stroke Dan’s hair until he fell asleep. He’d wake up the next morning in his own bed, his tiny child’s mind assuming he’d been teleported there in his sleep by some sort of wizard magic that only his father could do.

Daniel smiled, the slightest tiniest smile, and snuggled up closer to Anthony.

“Don’t forget that you’re loved, okay, Daniel?” Anthony said.

“Am I?”

“Of course you are. Chris, Phil, Louise, your fans, me. Hazel loves you too, she’s a grumpy-pants and she’ll never admit it, but she does.”

Daniel wanted to snicker at the thought of Hazel rolling her eyes and being forced to admit she loved him. It was a fun image.

“Sarah,” Anthony continued.

Daniel scoffed. “Sarah tolerates me.”

“No, she tolerates the stupid questions people post on your Facebook. And she does that because she loves you.”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Hey,” Anthony said. “Look at me.”

Daniel reluctantly sat up and looked at Anthony. His eyes were still very lovely, very comforting. Too much, perhaps. Daniel started to turn his gaze away, but Anthony put his hands on either side of Daniel’s face, forcing him to look straight at him.

“You, Daniel James Howell, are lovable as fuck.”

Daniel laughed bitterly at that, punctuating it with a groan. The idea was ridiculous enough, but Anthony saying it in such a silly way made it so much worse. It was downright cringey really.

“I’m not joking! Daniel. You are loved. And you are lovable. And you are worthy and deserving of love. And the haters are wrong. Literally. They’re just plain wrong. Sexuality is a fucking spectrum. Bisexuality is a thing. And it’s a thing that you are.”

Daniel couldn’t help laughing at this entire speech. It wasn’t that it was funny -- which it kind of was, admittedly. But Daniel wasn’t all that willing to internalize what he was hearing, and laughter was his brain’s last-ditch way of dismissing it before Anthony finally got through to him.

Anthony gave him a look. “Just because you dated Midori does not mean you’re suddenly magically a straight person now. I mean, you still think  _ I’m _ hot, right?”

“I mean… yeah, you’re hot, sure,” Daniel replied through slight giggles.

“See? Still into dudes. Look at that. Magic.” Anthony let go of Daniel’s face. “So you can safely write off any of the haters who say you were faking being gay or whatever, because like I said, they’re just flat-out wrong. Their comments don’t matter because they don’t know you. You love  _ people, _ you don’t love a gender. And… to me, that’s a beautiful thing, because it’s part of what makes you  _ you. _ And you’re beautiful.”

“I am not.”

“You are. And more people need to tell you that, clearly. In fact, you should go look in the mirror and tell yourself you’re beautiful.”

Daniel laughed. “I am not gonna do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because it’s so stupid! It’s like a stupid self-help book thing, it’s not gonna change anything.”

“Then what are you so nervous about?”

“It’ll look stupid.”

Anthony scoffed. “That word again. Who’s gonna say you look stupid? It’s just me here. And if I saw you looking in a mirror calling yourself beautiful, you know what I’d think?”

“What, ‘that guy is a total loser idiot’?”

“No. I’d think ‘I’m really proud of him.’”

Daniel looked at Anthony with a face that said “you can’t be serious.”

Anthony replied with a face that said “you bet I am.” 

Daniel slouched, closed his eyes, grumbled, and finally reluctantly stood. He stepped into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. Anthony, having followed, was right outside the door. Daniel looked at him with a pleading, desperate expression.

“Don’t make me do this,” he whined.

“You gotta. Do it. Look yourself in the eyes and say ‘Daniel James Howell, you are beautiful.’”

Daniel stared at his reflection and examined his appearance. Pale, splotchy skin. Patchy stubble barely coming through after days without a proper shave. A couple of breakouts. Some acne scars from his time as a teenager clueless about skin care. That red patch near his jaw. His long neck. His beat up t-shirt that he’d slept in the night before. He looked an absolute mess.

“Say it,” Anthony said.

Daniel sighed. “Daniel James Howell, you’re a complete fucking wreck.”

“Come on, Daniel.”

“Dan… Daniel… James Howell…” Dan hesitated, then closed his eyes and took a breath. He opened his eyes again and looked at himself. “You’re beautiful.”

“Say it again.”

“Daniel James Howell, you are beautiful.”

“Again!”

“Daniel James Howell, you are beautiful!”

“One more time for the negative voices way in the back of your head!”

“Daniel James Howell, you are beautiful!!” he screamed, his face reddening. He wanted to cry. He could feel the stinging at the corner of his eyes, but no tears came.

Anthony stepped into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around him.

“See?” Anthony said gently. “I knew you could do it.”

Daniel found himself nodding and grabbing more tightly onto Anthony.

 

***

 

“Why are you looking at this stuff, Dan?”

Dan was back at his hotel room’s desk again, still tormenting himself looking at what people were saying about him online. Such self-flagellation was becoming a bad habit. Phil was sitting behind Dan, seeing the headline on the laptop screen.

“End Of An Era” it said. A photo of Dan from the current tour -- a more flattering one than he expected, no less -- was sitting alongside the article’s first paragraph.

Dan scoffed. “Like, what, three years maybe?” he muttered. “They call it an ‘era.’”

“You underestimate the effect you have on people.”

“Had,” Dan corrected. “Had on people. And I mean, like, it’s whatever, you know? I did some good for awhile. And maybe I’m done now.” He shrugged and bit at the skin on the side of his thumbnail. “I don’t know if I can handle it anymore. Being in the public eye like this. I really don’t.”

Phil frowned. “Does that… does that mean you want to quit after the tour, then?”

Dan hesitated before shrugging again.

Phil stood up and put his hands on Dan’s shoulders. “You should do what makes you happy,” he said, his voice sad and low. “If this job isn’t making you happy anymore, then… there’s no reason to keep doing it.”

Daniel’s thoughts immediately went to Phil. To call Phil indispensable to his career was certainly true; Phil had discovered him, got him a vocal trainer, helped him build a brand around himself, and understood from the very beginning how Dan wanted his music to sound.

But did Dan even want to make music anymore if the price he had to pay was his audience turning their backs on him just for being himself? Besides, even before his time with Midori, the burnout was awful sometimes. If he retired, he could just hole up in his home, away from everyone, away from the eyes of the world, away from a world that judged him all the time. He could write poetry books or something if he really wanted to express himself. Maybe start philosophy blog. He didn’t care.

But if Dan stopped making music, that would mean he had no reason to see Phil anymore.

Phil must have felt Dan tense up just then, because he started rubbing his shoulders. It was gentle at first, but Phil ramped up the pressure with each involuntary moan Dan let out. Dan tilted his head and closed his eyes, letting the exquisite pain of the shoulder rub radiate and dissipate through his entire body. Phil’s hands were magical. Everything about Phil was magical, and every time they were together, Dan was reminded of it.

He couldn’t have Phil romantically. But he did want to keep him around. Besides, the rebellious side of Dan’s mind knew the haters would absolutely  _ love _ for him to quit. They’d love for him to give up, to run away crying, to vanish from music websites and get out of magazines and stay clear of their YouTube recommendations.  _ Fuck them, _ Dan thought.  _ If I quit, those twats win and I will not have that. I have more songs to record. I’m not done yet. Fuck. Them. _

Dan opened his eyes. “I’m not quitting,” he answered. He finally looked up at Phil, whose blue eyes were already pointed at him as if he’d been waiting for a decision. 

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

Phil smiled, relieved.

“Good,” he said.

 

***

 

Daniel found himself on a stage in an abandoned theatre, a far cry from the enormous arenas he’d been playing in recently, and he knew he was dreaming.

“Okay,” Alice’s voice said from stage left, “maybe sometimes it’s okay to yell.”

Daniel smiled at her. So conversational, yet still cryptic. How very dreamlike of her.

“I still don’t understand,” he said.

“It’s okay to yell. Once you know they’re listening, anyway.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It’s not like this is anything you don’t already know,” Alice replied. “I’m just memories in your head, you silly boy.”

“I mean I guess it’s meant to be a metaphor, but… for what? What fits?” He went through a mental list of what counted as yelling and what counted as whispering. Concerts versus one-on-one conversation? Putting on makeup for the public versus living genuinely for himself? Hell, being noisy in bed versus using a ball gag?  _ What did she mean!? _

Alice approached and stood next to him. They both looked out at the empty seats.

“It all fits,” she replied.

“That’s not helping.”

Daniel looked at an empty seat in the front row. A paper printout of the name “Terrence Howell” was taped to it. Even for a dream, the moment felt terrifyingly dreamlike. Like Terrence was haunting that seat.

“Did he see me?” Daniel asked. “On television, whenever I thanked you or Mum, whenever I mentioned that you two raised me… Did he hear that?”

“I’d wager so. He probably went out of his way to watch whenever he knew you’d be on. He may have even seen you on tour. Bought a ticket and came to watch his son, the famous rock star.”

“I don’t know,” Daniel said doubtfully. “He hasn’t seen me since I was three. D’you think he knew it was me at all?”

“You look just like your mum. And he knows your name. There’s no way he didn’t know Dan Howell was his son.”

“Maybe he had a heart attack because I turned out to not be the gay son he wanted so badly.”

Alice and Daniel laughed a bit at that. How ironic it would have been.

Daniel stared at the name on the chair. “Sometimes I dream about holding his hand or about him playing with me. They’re just these flashes, I was so small, but… I’m so happy in all of those memories.”

“He left you those memories. They’re gifts.”

“I can’t help but feel abandoned though,” Daniel replied. “And Mum isn’t ready to tell me about him yet. Maybe she never will be. I felt so alone because he left and now I feel alone in missing him.”

“Whenever it seems like you’re most alone,” Alice said, “that’s when you’re simply not seeing the people who love you.”

Daniel looked at her. “What?”

“Look out there again.”

Daniel looked towards what he expected to be empty seats again to see every seat filled with people smiling and cheering. He could pick out some faces in the crowd that he knew. But his dad’s face, as usual, was obscured by shadow.

“I think you need to reforge your connection with people,” Alice continued.

Daniel was so frustrated. Again with the cryptic advice -- what did that mean? He wanted to reforge his connection with his father, but lost that chance. He wanted to try for a proper relationship with Phil, but he was married now. Did she mean Anthony? Did she mean Dan Howell’s fans?

Daniel grumbled and turned away from the audience in a huff, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched forward.

He could feel Alice looking at him.

“I can see angel wings on your back,” she said.

 

***

 

Daniel awakened to a pitch black sky. He switched on the bedside lamp and scrambled over to his carry-on bag to retrieve his journal. He first wrote down the bits of the dream he could remember.

“Nana says sometimes it’s OK to yell,” he furiously scribbled. “But in another dream she and Lou and Chris said not to, so wtf. Dad probably knew who I was. I hope he was proud of me. I feel alone because I’m not seeing the people who love me but they’re there…. in the audience or…? Reforge connections with… someone? Who?”

He went back and corrected some of the less intelligible letters so he could recall the dream better later. He knew he’d need these cues.

He flipped back to the back pages of the journal where his early lyric notes all were. Faced with a fresh blank page, he froze. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to attack this head-on. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face how he felt about his father.

If I were speaking over his grave or at his funeral, Daniel thought, what would I say?

His pen hovered over the page.

“So… farewell, I guess?” he wrote. “You’re gone, and I can’t see you again. I’m having a hard time accepting that this separation really is eternal, because… all I ever wanted to hear from you, just one time, even if it had been a lie… was that you loved me.”

Daniel closed his journal stared at its cover. He wondered if he was capable of falling back asleep.

 

***

 

Dan’s show in Dallas was over, but he was still on stage. His hair was curling up from sweat, his face was devoid of makeup as it usually was for the end of the show, but he was incapable of feeling self-conscious. He had said goodnight, had stood up from the piano, and was smiling and waving at the crowd just as he always did before leaving the stage. Normally, after all that, he’d say thank you into the standing mic next to the piano bench, bow, and exit the stage.

But the microphone felt so wrong all of a sudden.

The microphone was, in a way, a symbol of everything he hated about his job. It was an amplifier. A filter. It distorted his voice, however imperceptibly. It created echo that blurred what he said unless he made an effort to enunciate perfectly. The microphone could boost his signal, but it also stood like a gatekeeper between his voice and his audience. It was social media. It was the press. It was a tool he could use to his advantage, but also something others could use against him.

He took the mic off its stand, held it up to his mouth, and stood at the center of the stage. He smiled, about to speak, but shook his head nervously, giggling slightly. His hands were shaking again.

The crowd cheered, spurring him on.

“Before I leave,” he said, “I want to say something. First of all, seeing everyone here tonight is so incredible. Phil told me… Phil Lester, I mean… he said years ago that one day I’d be performing in front of arenas full of people all over the world and… here I am, in Texas of all places, and this place is packed, and I cannot believe it.”

Applause, cheers, whistles.

“Secondly… I want to make this perfectly clear. I am not heterosexual, never have been, never will be, so let’s just get that out of the way, people.”

The audience lost their minds screaming and clapping. He smiled. There would probably be discussion tonight and tomorrow about whether Dan was bisexual, pansexual, some sort of asexual but homoromantic or biromantic, or if he was gay and Midori had just been a stupid rumor. He wasn’t ready to have the label define him though, so he didn’t clarify just yet. He would eventually, but not yet. Not tonight.

“Third…” he said, then trailed off. He wanted to try something. Something fun, but meaningful. But he had to consider whether or not he could.

Singing had gotten much easier since his career began. His costume changes had gotten faster as hurrying wasn’t leaving him winded anymore. He couldn’t dance, no. But he could do this.

He could yell.

He put the microphone down on the stage in front of him and took a step back. He looked around at the crowd. Not a single empty seat. Even after everything, and even after he basically came out, they were all still here. They’d all bought tickets, and nobody had left even though the show was over. He was on the verge of tears, but he held back. The tears could wait. Right now, he had something to say.

He closed his eyes and put a finger to his lips. Gradually, the encouraging claps and cheers and shouts died down. Dan stood perfectly still as he waited for every last member of the audience to become silent.

The audience waited with bated breath.

Daniel put one hand to the side of his mouth and yelled with every molecule of air in his lungs.

“Thank you!!”

The crowd exploded into cheers, jumping up out of their seats clapping and screaming. Dan took his final bow of the night, and walked offstage, a little lightheaded but ecstatic with happiness.

Now he could cry. So he did.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title & Dan's lyrics are from "Memorial address" by Ayumi Hamasaki.
> 
> STORY PLAYLIST LINKS  
> \--------------------------  
> [YouTube Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLNGF7u_238PUGn-eYj-JLNetqW3cLXtWl)  
> [Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/22vrarhq3udteajk2jukew4ga/playlist/0LJY6wdzBozxi6JTQzC6ve?si=TTdoA0ufRYCtGa6UGuHVAw)

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @americanphancakes (my ask box is open!)


End file.
